SabreWolf
by ByrdIsTheWyrd
Summary: AU fic. Wealthy vampire lord Byakuya owns three slaves: Ichigo, Renji, and Grimmjow. And so, our story comes to a close after a two-year hiatus. Yaoi, ByaRen and GrimmIchi, a little ShunJyu.
1. Chapter 1: Sloth

A/N: I have to write for all my favorite pairings sooner or later. If you didn't guess, this is yaoi and AU. I just love mythical creatures! If yaoi isn't your cup of tea, please hit the back button and save everyone some misery. If you're like me and can't get enough, welcome!

Pairings: Renji x Byakuya, Ichigo x Grimmjow, maybe more later on. It all depends on my mood.

Disclaimer: I'm writing a fanfiction, meaning I am a mere fan and not the owner of Bleach.

* * *

Chapter 1: Sloth

There I was, loping between the trees, wind pushing my blood red fur against my body. My coat shone in the dappled moonlight, irregular black lines turning my racing form into a hypnotizing streak of color. I dodged between huge, hundred-year old oaks, barely pausing to jump bushes as tall as myself. I could smell everything, every squirrel, rabbit, and fox that had passed through the woods in the last week. I chose the musky scent of a deer, a young buck, to follow. It had been almost a month since I had last hunted, and the adrenaline was surging through my canine veins.

The buck led me on a winding trail, over a bubbling stream, and over a barren hill. That's when I caught sight of his white hindquarters and ten-point set of antlers. I was so close, I could hear his heartbeat and smell his fearful sweat. I howled, to let him know I was close, and his time would be up very shortly. Besides, the chase was half the fun!

He bolted, his final stand, and I rocketed after him. It was blissful, the wind tickling my nose and ears, my tongue flapping as I panted, my paws thundering against the ground. I was closing in on the deer, even as his path swerved drunkenly back and forth. I could taste his meat already; I was only a few feet behind him. My back paws landed on a perfectly placed log, and I sprang with all I had to sink my cruel fangs into the buck's neck. My mouth was opened as wide as it could go, poised to take a chunk out of the nape of his neck-

Something very solid collided with my suddenly human shin. I shook my head, clearing it of sleep and wonderful dreams of freedom, to return to my cage.

"Renji, are you okay? You were twitching and whining in your sleep again," a voice next to me said.

The voice belonged to the best friend I had ever had, Ichigo Kurosaki. Only one other person had ever been as close to me as Ichigo was, and he was Ichigo's lover. He made himself known by yawning loudly and wrapping his arms around Ichigo's waist, then poking his blue head of hair over Ichigo's shoulder to look at me.

Grimmjow Jeagerjacques was mean, crude, and constantly horny. He was also the closest thing I'd ever had to an older brother, with his tendency to watch over both Ichigo and myself. He was a good listener, just like Ichigo, but he liked to badmouth whatever was bothering us as well, which is great for group therapy. He liked to give sarcastic advice and back massages, often at the same time.

I'm not sure I would still be here if it wasn't for the two of them.

The three of us had been cagemates for nearly a month now, with myself as the newest addition. At first I had been either a raging mess or a withdrawn shell, but with a lot of help on their part, I've gotten to the point where I can function again. I've learned the routine, and I've learned to behave myself. We're fed at six in the morning each day: I get dry dog food, Grimmjow gets dry cat food, and Ichigo gets dry cereal. Sometimes, Grimmjow or I aren't able to keep our animal forms for long enough to gulp down the horrid stuff, so Ichigo shares with us. We're fed three meals like this each day, and we get fruit, bread, and vegetables with dinner. An animal trough is rigged in the corner of the cage with rudimentary plumbing: a hose shoots water in, and a pipe drains it out to keep it cool and fresh. We used to have to put our hands in to drink the water, but as soon as the guards figured out we weren't about to kill each other, they allowed us to keep wooden cups. The cage is about twelve feet by twenty feet, so we don't get too much privacy. The bathroom is a hole in the floor with a circular cover, in the corner opposite the water trough. All we were given to wear was one pair of simple cotton pants each, and a collar. The only time we wore anything else was when another noble visited, and then we were dressed and groomed nicely, handcuffed, and acted as servants, maids, waiters, or even cooks. The pants are exchanged every other day for ones that were washed, like clockwork. For a bed, the guards had thrown in a pillow and blanket for each of us, which was pointless because the stone floor robbed us of all heat and comfort as it was. We learned to put two blankets on the floor and one over all three of us, and it was actually an adequate bed.

I should probably explain what I'm talking about here. The three of us, Ichigo, the human; Grimmjow, the werecat; and myself, Renji Abarai, a werewolf, were all captured servants of one noble vampire. His name?

Byakuya Kuchiki.

Even his name sends shivers down my spine-and not unpleasant ones, either. I glanced at Ichigo and Grimmjow, still waiting for my answer, and shifted my leg to cover the sudden bulge in my pants. I could only hope the blush burning across my face was unnoticeable in the darkness.

Ichigo had cocked his head, still wondering if I was okay.

"S-sorry, Ichigo," I stammered, "I was dreaming. I thought I was free, and hunting a deer. It won't happen again." I turned away, ashamed of my lack of control as I dreamt of the things I couldn't have. It was all I ever dreamed about. Freedom. Steak and venison. And Byakuya's soft lips on mine.

...Okay, so I didn't really know if his lips were soft or not. His fingertips had been soft and cool as they brushed across my cheek, so I can only imagine the rest of him being the same. He had touched my cheek the day after I had been brought in, shivering and drawn into myself. Grimmjow had been rubbing my back, trying to get me to calm down and say something; Ichigo was whispering softly to me, trying to soothe my fraying sanity. Byakuya entered the room stealthily, and knelt beside my broken form. Grimmjow yelled something at him, shielding me with his body, but Byakuya reached past him and gently stroked my cheek.

"This one will soon be perfect," was all he had said before he glided out of the room as silently as he had come in.

I had only seen him twice other than that, both times when he took Ichigo out of the cage alone, and drank from him. Maybe it was just me, but I thought the action of sucking a person's blood was supposed to be revolting, not as...arousing...as Byakuya made it. Just watching was enough to make me wish I was a full-blooded human once again-then he'd run his rough tongue over the tender part of my neck, one hand on the small of my back, fangs pressing into my flesh as his body pressed into mine...

Both times, Ichigo said he felt little pain but was exhausted and thirsty afterward. Grimmjow and I were extra careful around him after that, and took care of him. He was always fine the morning after, but Grimmjow pampered Ichigo the best he knew how to for at least two days.

Ichigo had fallen back asleep, his head on Grimmjow's shoulder. I'm not sure if Grimmjow ever really woke up. I drifted back to sleep only moments later, and dreamed of the thing I wanted most, but could never have.

* * *

I woke to the sound of kibble rattling into my red plastic bowl, appropriately labeled "Puppy". The blue, porcelain "Kitty" bowl was filled immediately afterward, and Grimmjow purred as he gulped it down.

After all, it WAS food.

Ichigo was handed a bowl of dry flakes of some kind, but didn't protest.

I protested against moving.

"Hey," Ichigo finally poked me in the side, "what's up with you, Renji?"

So it wasn't my brightest idea ever, but I told him.

"It's like I'm empty inside," I muttered stupidly, not really caring what he thought at the moment.

"That's because your breakfast is still just lyin' there, mutt," Grimmjow growled, back to being human for the time being.

I sighed. There was no arguing with him. I rolled over, getting to my hands and knees to shift from man to beast.

Let me explain, for those of you who've never turned into an animal before. Werewolves (and other were-animals) are cursed to being wolves (or animals) during the full moon. However, a strong were can change to a form he shouldn't be in at will. Right now, I should have been human, but with a sharp tensing of muscles, I drew out my inner wolf.

Grimmjow's cat scent always used to throw me off ("You don't smell so good yourself, sunshine," was his only comment) but I quickly tamed the familiar sensation of wanting to run and hunt and howl in lieu of snarfing down sustenance.

Grimmjow, who SHOULD have known better, decided it would be fun to jump on my back as if I was a common pack animal. Normally, I would have at least growled, but I was feeling a little too depressed at the moment.

So of course, here's me as a hulking red wolf, lapping kibble off my muzzle, with a crazy blue madman riding me like a donkey, so Byakuya just HAD to make his appearance.

My day had just gone from bad to worse, and then sprinted all the way to Hell in two seconds flat.

"The dog comes with me," Byakuya ordered.

* * *

A/N: Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Yeah, I'm thinking the rating has to go up next chapter. No, I will not rush into anything, you guys barely know Byakuya yet. I've never much liked fics that have two characters screwing either right after they've met, or when they still hate each other. Hmm. Rating will go up for violence, though. You have been warned.  
Who likes the thought of a big blue panther named Grimmjow running around? I sure do! Aww, and Ichigo's so cute, being worried about Renji and all that. Yeah, this chapter was mostly explanation, but there will be more action next chapter. Sayonara folks!


	2. Chapter 2: Pride

Obligatory A/N: Surprise! I actually finished something, for once. I thought for sure I was going to update this late and piss off some people, so I wrote this to be an apology. But then I kicked myself in the pants and got it done, so…I apologize in advance for the next time, I suppose!

Oh, and I completely forgot to mention this, but this actually started out as a birthday fic for Ikimono. Happy…really belated birthday, Ikimono! Everybody cheer with me! Rah!

Now go enjoy your yaoi fanfiction, you pervs!

Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I also don't own Sailor Moon, so it's all good.

Obligatory Warnings: yaoi (duh), angstly-ness, comic relief, bath scene. You get it all.

Non-obligatory P.S. A/N: Oh, there wasn't any need for the violence I thought there was going to be, but I'm going to up the rating now anyways to discourage people from getting hooked and _then_ having the rating go up.

EDIT 7-28-09: Wow, I'm slow on the uptake. Fixed the lack of page breaks (Where did they go???) and minor grammatical errors.

* * *

The leather burned my human flesh and choked me when Byakuya, my master, dragged me from the cell. He had me on a very short chain, which he had handed to another of his slaves.

I didn't know this human; I'd only seen him in the upstairs servants' quarters twice before. I wasn't allowed up there yet, because I, like Ichigo and Grimmjow, was a newer, unbroken slave.  
He was shrimpy, but fiery like Grimmjow. He was apparently quite bossy as well, because he didn't spare me any pain as he dragged me along.

I would have yelled at his short, white-headed self, but Byakuya was leading him and me through a labyrinth of stairs and landings. I was paying close attention, just in case I needed to find my own way back.

We finally left those stairs, bruising stumbling-blocks that had left my shins rug-burned and sore, and trailed down a hallway.

He wrenched the chain forward, harshly tugging me into a lavish bedroom.

The carpeting was the same lush red material found throughout much of his house. It matched my hair and my fur, and I started to wonder if that was a coincidence.

A huge bronze sculpture of a blossoming cherry tree started in the far corner of the room and branched out over the king-sized bed like a canopy. Real sakura petals were scattered on the white silken sheets and artfully across the floor, single petals laid down in perfect swirls and confetti sprays.

The room was heavy with their sweetness and a tangy incense of oranges. The scented wood was burning in an ornate glass jar atop the cherry dresser, which also held a few white candles.

Then it hit me. This must be his bedroom.

My heart momentarily stopped, then started pounding all the faster.

This is where the godly vampire slept at night! This was where he bathed and changed! This was his scent; this was his paradise. I reveled in wonder at the beauty all around me, concentrated in the man who was currently the source of the pain in my neck. We were in his bedroom! My mind could barely contain that thought.

"Hitsugaya," Byakuya addressed the icy midget, "the dog needs a bath. Have his cellmate attend to him."

Hitsugaya nodded and shoved me into the bathroom. "I'll be back with your friend." He leaned in as close as he dared to, then gave a whispered, "Sorry."

I nodded; it's not as if I was going to stay mad at the pipsqueak after he apologized! He didn't seem like a bad kid. Maybe his cold arrogance was a mask he hid his fear behind? I pitied him.

I drew the bath water, watching the porcelain tub fill with hot water from a miniature, tap-driven waterfall. A handful of sakura petals drifted lazily across the steaming surface, occasionally clinging to each other the way Grimmjow and Ichigo did. Would Byakuya ever hold me like that? Maybe if I tried harder, I told myself. Nothing could make me give up on my dreams. Without them, I was nothing.

I tossed my clothes to the floor, and let my red ponytail loose. The vanity beside the tub had a selection of bath oils and soaps lined up in tiny, multicolored crystal bottles, all glittering in the sunlight twisting through the blinds. The spots of sunshine danced on the polished marble countertop as the wind disturbed the cherry trees outside. After I had picked a shampoo, conditioner, body soap, and bath oil I could freshen up with, I turned to find the tub filled to a satisfactory level.

I twisted the silver knob, turning the tap off again, and crawled into the near-scalding water. It felt good to surrender to the heat, sinking down until only my nose and a patch of my forehead were the only things still above the surface.

I resurfaced when my skin had become the same color as my hair, and grabbed the purple shampoo bottle. The lather felt wonderful as I worked it into my sore scalp and dirty hair. I rinsed the suds out of the red locks, massaging out the kinks and used shampoo. I finished wiping away the bubbles sticking to my forehead and reached for the body soap.

After a moment of fishing around in the drawers of the vanity, I finally managed to hook and reel in a sponge. I popped the glass stopper from the clear bottle and shook it over the little dead sea creature. The greenish goop that oozed from the container smelled fresh, like evergreens and mint. It was cooling to the touch, and the sponge was just rough enough to scrape off the grime from the cell.

I lathered my torso, the tiny foam bubbles clinging to my shoulders and drifting down into the bath water. I splashed the soap across my collarbone, dipping beneath the water to scrub my washboard abs.

What? I was proud of how I looked, tough and toned and tattooed.

I continued scrubbing myself down, letting the sponge rub my flesh pleasantly raw. I was clean for the first time since I'd been brought here, and it felt bloody great.

I stepped out of the tub and wrapped a white towel around my waist. It was soft and fluffy, and white as freshly fallen snow.

Just as I had stepped in front of the vanity mirror to examine my bruises, the door was opened.

My favorite berry-head was pushed through the doorway, and an emotionless Byakuya examined my state of cleanliness.

"You can't possibly wash your own fur, so the human will do it for you. Don't get my floor filthy, dog." And the door was closed again.

There was a short moment of awkward silence.

"Wait, what am I doing?" Ichigo asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm getting washed up, and I can't do that myself. No opposable thumbs," I explained, wiggling the appendages in question.

"I guess you have a point, Pineapple. Now c'mon, let's get this over with. Sailor Moon Werewolf transformation sequence go." Strawberry scowled so hard it looked like he was actually trying to break his own face.

"All right, all right," I chuckled. "Don't get your panties in a twist. Now turn around, it's about to get awkward in here." I turned my back to him, ready to drop the towel.

Ichigo shielded his eyes, mostly for my sake. "It's not like I've never seen a naked man before," he (unfortunately) reminded me.

There was a crunch as my skeletal system reformed itself, and then my wolf form climbed into the tub.

It was a lot bigger when I didn't weigh nearly three-hundred pounds of deadly hunter. I submerged myself as much as I could, sloshing hot water and bright red hairs onto the bathroom floor.

When I stood back up, waiting to get washed up and resisting the urge to shake the water out, I noticed how my fur had absorbed nearly half of the water. Comical, yes, but kinda hefty, too.

Ichigo was a good sport about the whole fiasco, securing an economy-sized bottle of shampoo from behind the rest of the concoctions on the vanity. He poured this new chemical-smelling gel all over my neck and back as I obediently stood still.

His hands felt nice in my matted fur as he rubbed at the soap. I gave him a lupine grin, let my tongue dangle comically from my mouth, and half-heartedly wagged my waterlogged tail.

"Renji, you look like a complete goofball," Ichigo grinned. "Now shake, so I can get your paws soaped up."

I rolled my huge grey eyes up at him, and slapped a huge paw on the edge of the tub. He scrubbed it down, rinsed and repeated.

"Now turn around, let's get your tail. I bet it'll turn into a big puffball after we blow dry it."

I spun around, making sure to slosh more water on him.

It took about a half an hour to get me completely soaped up and washed off again, and a lot of contortions on my part to stay in the tub. Washing a wolf whose ears go just past Ichigo's shoulder is a lot different than washing a puppy or even a person.

It took twice as long to dry me off with the stupid little human contraption Ichigo was blowing hot air on me with. I couldn't figure out why the whole bathroom was stuffy if I was still damp.

That's when Ichigo found the infernal brush. Honestly, I thought he was going to skin me the way he wrenched it through my thick, shiny coat. He went after all of my tangles and clumps of fur with the ripping strength of an infuriated Grimmjow after one too many jabs of "Grimm-kitty." Believe me, big bad clawed panther Grimmjow in a fit of explosive, adrenaline-charged anger had never hurt me as much as this little human with his little bristly slab of wood. I was whimpering by the time he ran out of things to brush. He had extracted enough extraneous fur to make it look as though I had somehow asexually produced a litter of Renji-colored werewolf pups.

Nice image, I know.

Ichigo turned the wind-gun on me again, and I finally dried off completely. He wasn't satisfied with his work until he had run that brush from the top of my head to the tip of my tail. It didn't catch on any new, wind-blown snarls, so he motioned to the mirror with a mocking bow.

"I gotta say, Renji, you look much better now. I mean, you're still you, so you can only go so far, but..." he teased.

I managed to position myself so I could see most of my lycan body in the mirror, and I was shocked.

My fur was softer and shinier than it had ever been before in my life, and even though I might be a little biased, I thought it looked beautiful.

"Apparently, I can do pretty good work. Your fur looks beautiful now," Ichigo commented.

I wasn't the only one, then. Bonus points for the kid.

I picked up the towel I had dropped on the vanity in my teeth, trying to warn Ichigo. Sure enough, he rolled his eyes before shielding them.

I threw myself out of my four-footed form, sleekly shifting from beast to man. I threw the damp towel around my waist, and hopped on one foot out of the puddle I had drenched the floor with.

I seem to faintly remember Byakuya saying something about not doing that...

Crap.

"Uhh, Ichigo, do you know where any mops are? There's a lot of water on this floor. And am I supposed to put these dirty clothes back on now?" That would defeat the purpose entirely.

Hitsugaya bustled in, carrying a stack of neatly folded new clothes and--I wanted to hug him--a mop. My guess? He'd been eavesdropping the whole time just to find out when it was safe to come back in with the clothes and a will to clean. He was a smart one, that ice queen.

He handed Ichigo the mop and plopped the clothes on the vanity.

"Thanks, kid." I patted him on the head, in lieu of hugging.

I found out very quickly not to repeat this action.

"I'm not a kid," he growled. He wore Ichigo's trademark scowl as he pulled the drain plug from the tub and shot me a glare.

"Ooookay then," Ichigo responded. He looked a little intimidated. Note to self: mercilessly tease Ichigo later about being afraid of the midget when the midget is no longer around. P.S., I am also afraid of the midget.

I pulled on the clean boxers Hitsugaya had brought in, then the crisp tan pants. The shirt was red, complimenting the color of my hair once again (I was starting to think Byakuya liked red). A smart black jacket completed whatever look I was going for. "Serious business slave," perhaps? Or maybe

"Punch me, I can't decide whether or not I'm trying to be a nerd." It was attractive, but not in any specific way.

I internally shrugged, past caring. They were clothes, and they were clean.

Ichigo continued mopping up the water, and Hitsugaya was collecting all the bottles I had emptied on me. I felt lazy, so I sopped up some of the water with my old towel.

Within minutes, the bathroom looked as though my bath had never happened...with the exception, of course, of the loss of a few bottles and the addition of a soaking towel with a few clinging red hairs. Hey, nobody's perfect. Even if Byakuya is scarily close.

Hitsugaya had found me a pair of socks and nice shoes, making me look even less like myself than before. He had then escorted me to the front hallway where I was ordered to wait for Byakuya, and presumably escorted Ichigo back to our cell.

The minutes dragged on as I waited for the beautiful vampire to appear. I had memorized the swirls on the door and the pattern on the (unsurprisingly red) carpet. I had endlessly traced the seams on the cream couch beside me, scuffed the bottoms of my shoes on the floor, and even tried the nonsensical human pastime of thumb-twiddling. It turns out I'm not very good at it. Are my thumbs supposed to hit, or are they supposed to look like a waterwheel? I was confused by this craziness. What was the point, anyways?

I jumped when there was a knock at the door. This, if you ask me, was more human nonsense. A knock is just a noise, how can it be at the door?

With my good slave manners, I carefully opened said door and addressed the man outside.

"Hello, may I ask what business you have with my master?" I bowed, just in case he was a visiting aristocrat. Not that he looked like one, mind you. He had the strangest yellow eyes and navy blue hair. It had to be natural, because his sparse stubble was the same color. He was dressed all in black, and his fingernails were painted black as well. One was especially long, looking like a dagger or a poison-tipped needle. I tried not to stare at it.

"Ahh, Kurotsuchi. Thank you for coming with such short notice, my apologies," Byakuya's voice came from behind me.

The hair on the nape of my neck stood up. Kurotsuchi? The mad scientist, Mayuri Kurotsuchi? What could Byakuya possibly want to do with him?

"This is the one, then?" Kurotsuchi brushed past me. I closed the door, confused.

"Yes," Byakuya nodded. The mad scientist stared at me, studying my blank face and non-committal pose. What on Earth were they talking about?!

"He looks strong enough," Kurotsuchi commented in his creepy voice.

"Strong, and unintelligent enough where he won't question your orders. He's fiery, so you might want to break him a few times before you put him to work. If he turns out to be useless, dissect him. It doesn't bother me."

The words skipped around in my stunned brain, refusing to sit still long enough for me to understand them. Byakuya said I was...what?

"Werewolves are getting rare these days, and I assure you, he'll be perfect for the job. I will sell him to you for three thousand pieces of gold, and a small bag of cut rubies."

"You're a madman, Byakuya! He's not worth half that much!" Kurotsuchi protested loudly.

"Perhaps not, but that is what you will pay nevertheless."

Byakuya was...selling me? For approximately the price of a horse? To the man known for his ruthless ways of science that completely ignored the nobility of all life?

Suddenly, I no longer felt anything at all. I was numb with the pain of knowing that I was worthless to the man I would gladly die for. I wasn't an especially proud man, but this...

"Madman!" Mayuri accused Byakuya again, "I'll have you know Soi Fon is offering me a slave as well, one who might be twice as good as this one. With such an outrageous price on a mutt like that, I think I'll pass and see what quality she breeds. Goodbye, you greedy--" he slammed the door before he could finish his sentence. It was probably not child-friendly.

Byakuya sighed, and grabbed my collar. He was dragging me back to my cage, I vaguely noticed, as I tried to shut everything out. I bonelessly followed his lead, staring at anything other than him. The wall was a good subject, because it was always there.

White, white, off-white, cream, shadowy hallway, white... I focused on nothing else. I didn't feel solid anymore, like I was just floating over the red carpets and stairs.

He had just smashed my dreams, broken them into a _million tiny pieces_, and he didn't even care?! I was a shadow of myself, barely there, the illusion of what I once was.

He stuffed me back into the cage with the only people in the world who cared if I lived or died, and slammed the bars shut again.

"I'll send someone to collect the clothes in the morning," he impassively stated, then drifted away, like smoke.

I stared at the ground, unmoving, uncaring. Until I noticed the dark spots on the ground where my angry tears had fallen.

"Grimm, something's wrong," Ichigo sounded startled by this revelation.

"I noticed, Berry. I ain't clueless."

"What do we do?"

"Renj," Grimmjow put a hand on my shoulder, "you want me to kill the bastard?" I could just hear the maniacal grin in his voice.

"If he did anything to you, Renji, I'll kill him myself," Ichigo joined in. He walked over to stand beside me, and cupped my chin. I stared even more intently at the ground, ashamed that I was crying over a man I could never have had. I knew that from the beginning, why didn't I just give up from the start?

More hot tears. I was furious with myself. How could I still love him? But I knew I did. I wanted to sleep for a long, long time; then wake up, and find out everything was a dream.

Grimmjow forcibly pulled me into his lap, massaging my back the way he always did when I was hurting. He growled softly, in residual anger. The tears started to flow more freely, and soon, I was hugging Ichigo and abandoning all my useless pride.

* * *

Byakuya paced in his moonlit room, the candles flickering gently as his movement disturbed them. The sakura petals had been trampled many times over as the impatient aristocrat cursed under his breath.

"Ya still couldn't get rid of the mutt?" a drawling voice chuckled.

Byakuya paused to face the translucent figure. "You are sure he will take something of mine?"

"Positive, vampire!" the spook positively beamed. "The wolf'll take two things from ya that can never be returned if ya don't get rid of him soon. I've seen it!"

The aristocrat sighed in defeat. "Shirosaki, if you are lying to me, I will find a way to exorcise you from this house. He's going to be a good slave if he's broken in properly. I will not lose him without good cause."

"Then ya risk losing something more important, vampire!" He laughed insanely, and faded into the darkness along with the candlelight.

"Then...I have little choice."

* * *

A/N: *gasp!* Whaaaat? Hey, I don't know, ok?

And no, Shiro is not lying.

How did you like it?


	3. Chapter 3: Gluttony

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write! I hope the wait was worth it though, and understandable as well. Between finals, moving out, moving back in, working on a novel, grad parties, and one's muse running headlong into an oncoming train, not a lot of writing got done. On a brighter note, this is the longest chapter I have ever written! Literally ever! It practically doubles my word count! And on another bright note, I have finally seen Grimmjow in Bleach! I watch the dubs, so I'm a little behind. (Hey, if I wanted to read it, I'd buy the manga.) That's right, I've been writing Grimmjow's character completely by ear! Ear? ...Fingers. I've been writing Grimmjow's character completely by fingers. Whatever.

Warning: If you don't like a bit of cute, angsty yaoi of a pairing I have yet to reveal...then I'm sorry. Because it's there, and I don't want to give it away just yet. I promise, it's nothing unusual, and actually considered nearly canon by most of the fandom (that I know of).

IkimonoNoNoru, I stayed up until 4:00 just to type this up for you. (EDIT 6-15-09, midnight-ish: I fixed about 10 or so errors. My spell check wasn't working before, sorry about that.)

To all my other wonderful readers: thank you for sticking around through this rough patch, and I really tried my hardest to give you some good plot as an apology/bribe. XD

* * *

Grimmjow's fur was such an attractive teal. I kept swirling my fingers through it, drawing nonsensical patterns and curlicues. He was purring thickly, nearly asleep in my lap. Ichigo was snoring lightly in the makeshift bed, even though it was sometime after noon.

I was thankful that Ichigo had let me sleep earlier when Byakuya came to collect the dressy clothes I had been wearing yesterday. I don't think I could handle seeing him just yet. I felt a twinge of pain shooting through my chest, and my vision blurred again.

Grimmjow snarled in annoyance: I had accidentally gripped his fur a little too tightly. Ichigo snorted and rolled over, eyes glossy and lucid.

The fur was replaced with rough pants and skin. After he had hauled himself up and hitched up his pants, Grimmjow made his way to Ichigo's side and tapped him lightly with his foot.

"Hey, sleepyhead, it's definitely time to get up," Grimmjow snorted.

"All right, all right." Ichigo yawned and stretched massively, cutely rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Hey, Renji, feeling any better today?"

I glared at the ground, a scowl perpetually stretched into my face.

"I'll take that as a yes," Grimmjow smirked.

Ichigo elbowed his lover in the side. "Don't be a jerk, he's really hurting, Grimm."

Teal was such a great color. I wanted Grimm-kitty to come back, so I could let myself drown in his sleek warm teal-ness. I didn't want to think about anything except teal. What a great word it was. There was even a kind of bird called a teal, but I'd never seen one. I wondered if it was teal, like Grimmjow. Maybe it ate cats? That would be ironic. Ahh, teal was the color of the sea and the sky, too. The only two colors better than teal were ebony and sakura petal pink.

"I don't deal with touchy-feely crap, Ichigo. Go do something."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and obediently followed orders. He sat down next to me, crossing his legs and carefully folding his hands in his lap.

"Renji, we're your friends. I don't really know how to say this, but I don't think either of us really know what's going on right now. Would you talk to us, help us understand? We want to help you, but it's difficult to know what to do." He held out his hand to me, offering a portal back to sanity.

I knew I could trust my friends with everything that had been happening. If Ichigo was willing to make corny friendship speeches, then I was willing to take him up on that offer.

"Okay," I whispered after a long silence, "but you guys are gonna laugh at me and my stupidity."

"We would never laugh at you, Renji."

"Speak for yourself, berry-head!"

Ichigo nailed Grimmjow in the jaw with his wooden cup. "Shut up, Grimmjow! Now, if there will be no more interruptions from the highly unintelligent peanut gallery, Renji is talking."

Grimmjow held up his hands in surrender, eyes bright with mischief.

"Please continue, Renji. If Grimmkitty does anything else to interrupt you, I won't speak with him for a week."

"You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" Grimmjow hung his head, downtrodden.

"Remind me why I fell for you in the first place? Oh, that's a good story for a later time. Remind me to tell that story sometime, Renji."

Grimmjow looked further deflated, and his panther self was back at my feet again, begging for more attention.

I ran my fingers through the teal fur again, unsure of what to say. And Ichigo, bless him, gave me all the time in the world.

"I have to start at the beginning. It all starts with me being captured and meeting Byakuya..."

* * *

Byakuya, a few floors up, was pacing a rut into his bedroom carpeting.

"And you might want to get more of those medicated tea leaves ready, vampire," the ghost grinned.

"Shirosaki, I don't have time for--"

Three deep bangs on the main door cut him off.

"Toodles!" Shirosaki faded into the wall, laughing maniacally.

Byakuya sighed, slipping quietly from his bedroom into the hallway where Hitsugaya had been waiting. The ice queen appeared to be napping against the wall, but was really trying to pretend that he hadn't been eavesdropping.

"Hitsugaya, retrieve the wolf and bring him to the main doors. If that's who I think it is, I'll be in need of a pack mule." Byakuya scowled deeply as Hitsugaya gave a quick bow and scampered off. He walked slowly, one hand on the railing and the other massaging his forehead.

He entered the kitchen, dark granite countertops gleaming against the cherry cabinets, tan walls, and red accents. A locked door near the back of the room led to a large storeroom filled with both alchemical odds and ends and assorted alcohols-after all, it made little sense to let one's servants become intoxicated. Byakuya heaved a bulging burlap sack of heavily perfumed tea leaves over one shoulder, and dropped it on the nearest counter. The door was relocked and an unlucky servant was ordered to waddle, bag in tow, after Byakuya. He headed to the main doors just as Hitsugaya permitted Byakuya's visitor entry.

An explosion of personality burst through the door, pink kimono, sake, rice hat, and all.

"Heeeeey, if it isn't my buddy Byakuya!" the man drawled.

* * *

My story was drawing to a close when the ice-midget emerged from the stairwell.

Of course, I couldn't stop myself from telling my cell-mates the truth, even with an audience. I continued declaring my undying love for Byakuya, still crying, even though I knew the man hated me. I was just a dog to him.

"And that's what's been going on. That's why I can't stop myself anymore," I sobbed out as Ichigo hugged me and scowled at the same time.

"It sounds like you've got it bad." Grimmjow raised his eyebrows at me.

"It sounds like you're the type that falls in love and never falls back out again," Ichigo muttered, one hand patting the small of my back.

I nodded helplessly, depressed and relieved that I had finally been able to tell someone.

"If you really love him, Renji, then _never give up_."

Ichigo's words made an electric shiver run up my spine. I sat up straight, the words reverberating in my skull. I suddenly had hope again.

The ice midget chose this stretch of silence to speak.

"Renji, Byakuya ordered your wolf form to the main doors. I'm sorry, but...he said he needed a pack mule."

I shook my head and rose to my feet. "Never give up," I whispered to myself with a little smile, and saw Ichigo sigh in disbelief out of the corner of my eye.

* * *

I trotted to the front doors, ears drooping and eyes on the floor. I tried to ignore Byakuya and the overly friendly man he was chatting with, but the sheer loudness made him very hard to overlook.

"You see, Mr. Kuchiki, I've been feeling a bit..." here he stopped to give a weak cough, "...under the weather recently. I thought I'd stop by and ask for some more of those wonderful tea leaves you always seem to have." The man put an arm around Byakuya's shoulders and used the other to cradle a massive jug of what smelled like strong rice wine. "What do you say, old friend?"

The vampire coldly pushed his "friend" away, and snapped his fingers twice. Hitsugaya strapped a saddle-like contraption on my back, suspending a large basket on either side of my ribcage. A hefty bag of tea leaves was put into each basket, each one only half full. I gave a pathetic little whine, and then let my tail droop even further when Byakuya only blinked at the pitiful sound.

"I suppose you'll be paying me in liquor again, Shunsui? I have little use for it, other than cooking and trading."

"What more do I have, Byakuya? I've already given you the allotted amount of servants you asked for, don't pretend like I owe you anything more than liquor." He handed the sloshing jug to Hitsugaya, a triumphant smile plastered on his face.

"I suppose you're right. Your continuing support is well worth the cost in tea." He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest with a defeated sigh. "Renji, go." He shooed me with the flick of a wrist.

I gave him the saddest puppy face I could muster before complacently following a still-beaming Shunsui.

* * *

Perhaps it would help if a bit of explanation was given here.

Werewolves, and all other were-animals, have just as much humanity as any other race. You've seen this in practice. The only difference between myself and Ichigo, besides the obvious, is his lack of being able to become an animal at will. I'm no less human because of whatever else I was born as.

And so, it follows logically that a werewolf would despise being treated like an animal and not a person. In fact, the most insulting thing to do to a were is to use them as a workhorse or other domesticated working animal. Riding a were pisses them off, and using them to carry bloody tea leaves like a donkey was just as bad.

The saddest part about this story? This is extremely common knowledge. Byakuya knew that, by ordering me to carry anything for him, he was insulting me in the worst way possible.

Did Byakuya care? Probably not.

But I still carried them, just as he had ordered me to.

_Never give up_.

* * *

It was nearing dinnertime when Shunsui and I arrived at his manor. For some reason, we used the tiny back door instead of the large front doors. The baskets refused to squeeze through no matter how I contorted myself, so Shunsui (thankfully) unbelted the entire contraption and allowed me to use my human form.

As soon as I had thrown the bags onto his carpeting and he clicked the lock shut, he started apologizing profusely for making me do all the work.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier, I didn't want Byakuya to hear...but I'm really sorry about this, thank you so much, you don't know how much I appreciate this..." He graciously shook my hand until my elbow felt like gelatin.

I wasn't sure what to say. I couldn't say "you're welcome" because he was very much not welcome to ever do this to me again; I couldn't say "no problem" because, as you saw, this was definitely a problem for me; and I felt as though I couldn't say nothing at all.

"But you don't look sick!" I finally blurted out, then looked stunned as what I had just said caught up with me.

Oops.

Dangit.

Crestfallen was an understatement. Shunsui looked as though I had just bashed his brains out with a lemon wrapped around a large golden brick, and not in a I-just-drank-the-best-alcoholic-beverage-in-the-known-galaxy kind of way.

"Well, I suppose I have to show you then...but remember, this stays strictly between us. By that, I mean I don't care who you tell as long as Byakuya never hears of it." I felt better when he cracked another smile.

"Of course," I assured him with a little bow.

He ushered me into a back living space that lead into the kitchen on our left. It was cozy, with a crackling fireplace, a squishy sofa, and plush cream carpeting from wall to wall. A window showed off a beautiful little courtyard with a miniature waterfall bubbling into a koi pond, and an ancient oak. Flowers bloomed in the courtyard, and several indoor flowerpots were overflowing with bundles of fragrant blooms.

In the center of the room was a man in a wheelchair, fast asleep. His hair was long and bleached white from his apparent sickness, and he wore thick cream robes to fight off the chills that came with the fever. He was thin, probably a bit anemic, and still managed to retain some of his handsomeness.

"Please, put the tea leaves in the kitchen and start a kettle of tea. I'll be right there," Shunsui whispered to me.

I nodded, and slipped into the back entryway to grab one of the huge bags. I lugged it through the living room and into the kitchen, threw it on a counter, and extricated a pouch of compressed leaves the size of a small melon. I then scratched my head as I tried to puzzle out where Shunsui would keep a kettle, and managed to run smack into something solid.

"Oof," I coughed out, then noticed I had hit something not just solid, but very much alive.

She batted a hand out, replacing her glasses with practiced ease. She looked mildly annoyed, her hair pulled back in some sort of up-do and a strict look on her face.

"Sorry," I muttered sheepishly, and held out a hand to help her up.

"You must be new," she commented as she brushed her black cotton robes off.

"Just visiting on business," I explained, holding up the tea leaves briefly. "I'm Renji, Abarai Renji."

She took my offered hand and shook it firmly. A woman with a good strong handshake was a woman who was strong, independent, dominant, and afraid of nothing.

I had my tail between my legs already.

...Metaphorically, of course.

"Nanao. Ise Nanao." She scowled again, opening a low cabinet with her foot and yanking a bronze teakettle out of the clattering mess. "I'm guessing you're looking for this."

I instinctively flinched as she brandished it in my direction, thinking she might nail me in the head with it.

"Nanao! How nice of you to join us!" Shunsui greeted her enthusiastically. He wrapped one arm around her in a bear hug she didn't seem to appreciate, and used the other to relieve her of the kettle.

"Hello, sir." Her voice lacked amusement, and she shoved him away as though she'd been doing it for years. From what I'd seen of Shunsui, she probably had been.

I plucked the kettle away from Shunsui, finally starting the task he had assigned me. I filled it with crisp water and set it over the controlled magical fire most aristocrats had installed for cooking these days.

Nanao opened the sack of leaves, and transferred a pinch of the strong-smelling stuff into a tiny linen satchel. She tied a string to it, and set it aside in a dry mug she produced from another cluttered cabinet.

"Well, I see you've met my secretary, Renji," Shunsui chuckled as Nanao pushed me out of the way to find a dishtowel. "Nanao, this is Kuchiki's new werewolf. He's a nice fellow, really. You could be a little kinder to him."

This information made Nanao smile-a toothy, clever smile that told me she would use every word to her advantage.

Now, my tail was between my legs _and_ I was whimpering in fear. Still metaphorically, thankfully.

"What's he like? I've heard he's quite the slave driver, and I'm not trying to be clever when I say that." Suddenly, she was very chummy. I think my misfortune amused her.

"He's very...mean to me," I said pathetically.

"I guess they go both ways..." Nanao sighed, with a meaningful look towards Shunsui.

I had to chuckle at that. I was surprised when she smiled at me; this time, it was warm and meaningful.

"Anything else about him that's interesting?" This time, she wiggled her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. I'm pretty sure she was just doing it to amuse me, so I laughed again.

"He likes pink," I offered.

"Ahh, something they have in common."

We both dissolved into giggles as Shunsui flourished his pink kimono, laughing along with us.

The kettle whistled impatiently, so Nanao poured some steaming water into the mug with the tea leaves.

I peered around the corner, considering curling up in front of the fire while we waited for the tea to steep, and instead found the white-haired man from earlier starting to stir. He was now on the couch, and probably more comfortable because of it, but considerably less mobile than in his wheelchair. He was struggling to sit up, one hand on his head. I scurried over and helped him right himself, worried over the iciness of his hands and the warmth from his fever.

"Shunsui, he's awake!" I called out.

He was at my side in an instant, pulling the sick man into his lap and cradling him against his chest. Nanao brought the tea with her, gently blowing on it to help the cooling process along.

"How do you feel, Ukitake?" he asked gently.

Ukitake tried to reply, but instead started to cough. Shunsui whipped his handkerchief out of his pocket and cupped it over Ukitake's mouth. Ukitake gave a final, shuddering hack, and spat into the white cloth.

"Nanao, the tea," Shunsui requested as he rubbed Ukitake's back. He took the handkerchief and swapped it with the soothing tea. "Small sips, okay? Don't strain yourself." He checked the contents of the handkerchief before quickly balling it up and shaking his head. Ukitake sipped a tiny bit of the tea, letting it swish around in his mouth and clean out the taste of death. He swallowed, then took another sip, and another.

"Sir, was there...?" Nanao asked, worried about what Shunsui had found in the handkerchief.

"Yes." Shunsui let his hat cover his eyes. "A bit of tissue. It could be worse, I suppose." He didn't sound convinced.

I was thoroughly confused at this point, watching the interaction in the same manner as I would watch a spooked flock of birds. I didn't know where to look, and I didn't know what to think.

Ukitake was much more calm now, resting his head on Shunsui's shoulder and letting the medicine take effect. It smelled like honey and spring, with a tang of citrus fruit and magic.

Tissue? What did he mean, tissue? He coughed up...wait a second, this man was coughing up lung tissue?? I wasn't sure which hit me first, the wave of nausea or the wave of nauseating sorrow. This small, absurd family was being torn apart by Ukitake's illness, I could sense it as well as see it in action. Every motion the others made, no matter how small, was made out of compassion for the sick man.

Shunsui shifted slightly as Ukitake finished his tea, to better steady Ukitake where he sat. Nanao took the empty cup in silence, and brought it to the kitchen. The sounds of furious scrubbing could be heard for a minute or two, and then she reappeared to serve Ukitake once more.

"Are you ready to try napping for a while longer? The medicine should make you start to feel better in a little while," Shunsui asked.

"May I have some more tea first?" Ukitake replied, his rich baritone voice sounding scratchy and exhausted.

Shunsui gently kissed his forehead. "Of course. Would you like anything extra added? Honey, raspberries, mint, lemon, or anything else?"

"Just a little bit of lemon, please. I'll be fine, Shunsui, you don't have to worry so much." Ukitake adjusted his robe and gently placed his head on Shunsui's broad chest again.

Nanao quickly returned with the mild tea and lemon juice, bowing her head in respect as she handed the mug to Ukitake.

"Did you have to beg Kuchiki for more tea?" Ukitake scorned Shunsui lightly. "I know how much you hate having to beg the ice queen for any favors. You don't have to do that for me, you know."

"Even if I had to beg him for hours to keep you with me for only minutes more, I would do it. I don't care what it takes, I won't just sit here and watch you die." Shunsui was on the brink of silent tears, his knuckles white where he gripped the arm of the couch.

Nobody knew what to say anymore, so we sat in painful silence as Ukitake took careful, precise sips and Shunsui composed himself. With only a mouthful left at the bottom of the cup, Ukitake set it down and began blinking drowsily. He fell fast asleep in Shunsui's arms, his chest rising and falling peacefully and his color miraculously returning. Shunsui carefully cradled him, and rearranged him on the couch where he could sleep more comfortably. Shunsui plumped a pillow and slid it under Ukitake's head, and wrapped Ukitake in another warm blanket. He brushed a few strands of sweaty hair out of Ukitake's eyes, and kissed him twice on each high cheekbone.

Shunsui rose and addressed me. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he muttered, eyes downcast. "He's slowly dying...and I can't do anything but slow down the process. Byakuya can't know what I'm doing here, he'd never allow his good medicine to be used on a human like this." He growled in frustration. "Why are humans so fragile? I don't understand."

"Do you really love him, Shunsui?" I asked, my anger at Byakuya flaring up suddenly.

"I would die for him, Renji," he whispered back, "but I know that won't make him better."

"If you really love him, Shunsui, then _never give up_."

I poked him in the chest for emphasis, which seemed to adequately snap him out of it.

With a somber little smile, he had to ask me, "How did you come up with that advice?"

"A friend of mine told me...If I really love Byakuya, I should never give up. And I won't. But I am going to hurt him for making you go through all of this. I don't care what he does to me."

"Renji?" Shunsui's voice was very concerned. That's when I felt the tear slide down my cheek.

I was...crying? Why was I crying? I didn't even know why. Maybe I could attribute it to my bottled up rage at Byakuya, or maybe it was because I cared so deeply about poor Ukitake and Shunsui. I'm still not sure why, but I didn't care because it felt right.

It even felt right when Nanao wrapped her arms around my chest in a warm, friendly hug. "It's so beautiful!" she sobbed into my neck. I wasn't exactly sure what to do, so I kinda hugged her and awkwardly patted the crown of her head.

"Renji, if you ever need a place to stay, you are always welcome here. I'll leave the back door open for you, and if I do lock it, the spare key is under the mat."

"Thank you," I said as I wiped off my face. "And remember, neither of us can ever give up. I'll ask everyone I know about Ukitake's illness and see if something useful doesn't crop up. Thank you again."

On my way home, I contemplated running away instead of returning like an obedient mutt. What could Byakuya do? It was unlikely that he would catch me on his own, and the time it would take to gather his allies would give me leeway in my escape.

But I knew why. If I disappeared, Byakuya would surely go to Shunsui for answers and find a human drinking his prized tea. I had also promised to make Byakuya pay...and I couldn't give up on him, either. Running away was giving up, and I wouldn't give up even if it meant taking a few more kicks to the sides.

* * *

I slunk in as soon as Hitsugaya had the door open a crack, bowing my head in thanks as he led me silently back to the cage. Grimmjow and Ichigo were sound asleep, both blissfully tangled in the other one's limbs.

Maybe it was just me, but it definitely smelled as though they'd been entwined for a while, but not asleep for very long. At least they had the decency to wait until I was gone, and not use my sheets.

Just to be safe, I slept on the other side of the cell from them. You know, just in case.

* * *

I carefully thought out what my plan of action for tomorrow was, as sleep evaded me.

After careful review, I decided I must be a masochist. After all, I was about to show that I was a glutton for punishment.

* * *

Ichigo was woken up earlier than he would have liked by a weird, somewhat familiar voice.

"Ichigoooooo..." it called out, distorted and eerie. He looked around, trying to find the source of the noise.

"Where are you?" Ichigo growled back.

"Right here, Ichi!"

Ichigo jumped as the ghost materialized just inches from his face.

"Shiro? But...how?"

The poltergeist grinned widely. "I haunt this house, Ichi. Ever since I died, I've haunted this house. Looking for you."

"What do I have to do with anything, Shiro?"

"Oh, you have everything to do with me, Ichigo," Shiro teased. "Mostly, I just get bored though. So I play tricks a lot."

"You were always a lot more mischevious than evil, I'll grant you that. But why were you looking for me?"

"I guess you'll just have to figure that out!" Shiro disappeared with an echoing laugh, leaving Ichigo with goosebumps as he curled up closer to Grimmjow.

* * *

A/N: So, Shiro just likes causing trouble and isn't actually malicious? Will Ukitake die if Byakuya finds out? What is Renji going to do that makes him think he's a masochist? Grimmjow likes being scratched behind the ears? Are any of the other characters going to reveal their secrets any time soon? How cute is stubborn little Hitsugaya? Find out in the next installation! And remember: Constructive reviews power my muse. Hey, it even rhymes! Not bad for 4:00 AM.

...Did anybody catch the H2G2 reference? XD


	4. Chapter 4: Envy

Chapter 4: Envy

A/N: I will probably never double my word count in one chapter ever again (after the second chapter, of course). That was insane.

Changing the subject, I've noticed that my writing style has evolved from epic poems of meaningless drivel to short, focused paragraphs. I'm not sure I like the length, but I think the more focused part is helping me tell the story properly.

Also, this story is getting ridiculous in reference to the amount of crazy that's going to explode when the epic finale hits. Just thought I would point that out. Not to mention, I might be able to include almost every known character in the series if I keep this up. Geez. Not even kidding.

And now, after typing all of this non-stop in the course of one day, I give you _chapter four_!

* * *

Two days had passed, and Byakuya still hadn't come downstairs to check on any of us. I was still waiting, still furious with anger, but more strategic because of all the time I'd had to plan. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary, lulling us all into a false sense of security.

Then there was the problem of Grimmjow and Ichigo. While I had nothing in the way of romance, they showed off their abundance. It was starting to really piss me off. After their third makeout session today, I was starting to contemplate beating my head against the bars, sitting on Ichigo, or maybe just twisting Grimmjow's nipples again. No matter what Grimmjow says, the squeal he makes when you twist them hard enough would _always_ be funny.

Hitsugaya had put in an appearance yesterday, but only a short and silent one. He was probably sent to do a head count or something. _I'm still here!_ I wanted to shout. _I'm still waiting for you, Byakuya._ I'm sure he didn't care, though.

Pessimism was great. If the situation turned out worse than normal, you wouldn't be disappointed; if it turned out better, well, then it was better than expected. But the process of being pessimistic sucked horribly. I would know.

* * *

Byakuya had spent the day after Renji had returned late from Shunsui's manor getting ready to confront the drunkard about the tea delivery. While the manor was a long walk away, it didn't take several hours to drop off a few bags of tea, and yet, Renji had been gone for almost the entire day.

The weather was horrible. Sickly little clouds vomited out sprays of insignificant drizzle, and refused to either clear up or rain properly. The sun failed to show up for work today, and so did the wind. It was muggy with misty rain, stale from lack of a breeze, and oppressively warm. Also, the mosquitoes loved it.

Byakuya refused to walk in this weather. Hitsugaya saddled up a steel-colored mare for the aristocrat, and a white filly for himself.

It took them nearly an hour to traverse the swampy forest and muddy roads to Shunsui's manor. Byakuya's hakamas were soaked with stagnant mud, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and the mosquitoes loved his ankles.

Byakuya was livid by the time he handed Hitsugaya the reigns, giving him a strict order not to let either horse run wild. Hitsugaya nodded in fear as the vampire's eyes flashed crimson. Both horses were tied to a post outside the back door, which was propped open with an old boot. Byakuya noticed this, and let himself in. The door swung open easily, letting the vampire enter unannounced.

Hitsugaya didn't dare follow, or even peek around the corner. He balanced carefully on top of the post, watching the horses graze.

* * *

Ukitake was feeling a little better the day after Renji had delivered the tea leaves. He remembered a bit of their new red-headed friend, and asked Shunsui about him.

"He's one of the few people I feel I can actually trust," Shunsui remarked in answer. Nanao sketched an accurate picture of Renji in her thick notebook, helping Ukitake's memory fill in the holes.

Nanao sipped her coffee; Shunsui, his sake; Ukitake, his tea. What was supposed to be a three-month supply of leaves had soon dwindled to a three-week supply at the rate Ukitake had to guzzle it down to keep his health.

The little family knelt at the tea table, populated with beverages, breakfast, and a fishbowl with one small koi goldfish lazily drifting in circles. The fish was in front of Ukitake's decimated breakfast platter, looking quite droopy in comparison with his larger brethren. Ukitake swirled a finger in his teacup, and let a stray drop of the powerful tea drip into the fishbowl.

"Why is there a fish at the table?" Shunsui asked, goggling as if he was seeing it for the first time.

"He's the smallest one, and some of the other fish were ramming him. I think he's blind in his left eye," the fish thunked against the glass as he said this, "and I think he might be sick."

"But, why is it at the table?"

Ukitake let another drop of tea fall into the tank, and smiled as the fish perked up a bit. He sipped at his tea a bit more, and rose to put another pot on the flame.

"Ukitake knows what it's like to be sick," Nanao explained cautiously, "and he wouldn't even wish it on the lowest of animals." She rose, clearing the plates from the table. She put the fish on the end table, and got to work cleaning the breakfast dishes. Shunsui fluffed up Ukitake's pillow and put it on the couch, positioned so Ukitake could watch over his fish.

Ukitake poured himself another cup of tea, holding it close to warm himself up. Shunsui swept Ukitake into a big hug, so glad he was feeling better, and kissed Ukitake on the cheek as he took a mouthful of tea.

Byakuya walked in just at that very moment.

It took him three seconds to register what was happening, and another three to recover. His mouth stretched into a deep frown, and he clenched his fists to keep himself from shouting -- a very un-Byakuya-like thing to do.

"Uh-oh," was Nanao's only prognosis.

Ukitake froze, the teacup still touching his upper lip, and Shunsui stared in horror. Byakuya glowered, quickly putting two and two together.

"A human?" Byakuya growled. "My tea is not to be wasted on that sort of filth, Shunsui." He turned to leave. "Don't ever bother me again, Shunsui." He reached for the door handle.

"You wouldn't understand why I go through all the things I do, Byakuya."

Byakuya turned the handle. He would not be talked to like that.

"I watch as his health deteriorates, I listen when the fever takes his mind, I even beg the likes of you for his sake, Kuchiki! But you wouldn't understand. You can't even see love when it stares you in the face." Shunsui held Ukitake tighter, as if afraid his outburst would make the sick man break. "You see it as weakness. How can you be so insulting to the one person with the capacity to love you even as you break him?" Shunsui ground his teeth.

Byakuya opened the door fully, fed up with the insults and excuses.

"Fine," Shunsui shouted. "Don't ever bother me again, Kuchiki."

The door slammed closed after Shunsui's brave, idiotic defiance. Never again would insulting someone feel so fulfilling, or have such grave consequences.

Shunsui laid Ukitake on the couch, ready to make the next three weeks the best of Ukitake's life.

* * *

Hitsugaya didn't hear any of what had happened inside Shunsui's manor, but reasoned that it had stressed out his master. He led the horses back to the stablehand, a big fellow named Ganju, and hurried inside to draw the pissed aristocrat a hot bath.

Byakuya let his kimono drop to the floor as he stepped into the fragrant water. Love? What had that Shunsui idiot been babbling about back there? He pondered over the confrontation as he sank into the blissful heat.

Love was an emotion; he knew that much. But so were anger and sadness and joy. What made love any different? Shunsui seemed to think it was a more powerful force than anger.

Maybe love made you do foolish things?

Then what was the point? Why was love sought after so widely? He'd seen the bond between Ichigo and Grimmjow. It had boosted Ichigo's confidence, but it had tamed Grimmjow, the only slave Byakuya had ever had a reason to fear. He might have to promote them both to slave's quarters soon on good behavior.

Renji, on the other hand, was...different. Byakuya had expected a wild werewolf to be a homicidal psychopath from the start. Werewolves had a reputation of being berserkers, throwing emotion and logic to the wind for the sake of killing. The best known werewolf was the infamous Zaraki Kenpachi, part unstoppable force and part recurring nightmare. His legacy was still being told to children of all races to keep them in line -- "Stop whining or Kenpachi will eat you."

Renji was anything but a nightmare. He was young, strong, and utterly confusing.

On the one hand, he was infuriating. He refused to break, he was ruled by emotions Byakuya didn't understand, and nothing he did made any sense. Any other were would have flatly refused to be a pack mule, but Renji had bowed to his wishes. There was something wrong with that, but Byakuya couldn't put his finger on what it was.

On the other hand, he was fiercely loyal, kind to his friends, and would do anything, no matter how insulting, if Byakuya asked him to. Byakuya was sure that Renji had to hate him for everything the wolf had been put through, but he still did everything Byakuya asked him to without a complaint.

...What if he was selectively servile to the vampire lord alone? Not even his friends could get him to stoop as low as Byakuya could.

It was almost as puzzling as this love thing. There was one thing Byakuya knew for sure about both love and Renji. He knew that Renji could not love him, and he could not love Renji. The two most confusing concepts in Byakuya's life just wouldn't go together, like pieces of an ill-fitting puzzle.

But the little wriggling feeling in the back of his mind wouldn't go away.

The seeds of doubt had been planted.

* * *

It was the evening of the second day before I saw Byakuya again. I hoped he would at least acknowledge me, but he refused to even look in my direction. He was just down here to steal more of Ichigo's blood. How fitting. He sucked the life out of anyone who got close to him: Ichigo, Shunsui, Grimmjow, Ukitake.

Me.

I watched the way his lips pressed against Ichigo's skin, the way his throat moved as he drew forth liquid life, the way his fingers carefully held Ichigo's chin.

I had memorized the way his neck arched, the way his eyes dilated as he finished his meal. I couldn't help it. I had to keep staring.

It hurt. I wanted to be human so badly; I wanted to be Ichigo! I didn't want to watch what my mind was turning into an erotic display and not be a part of it! There was something about it that made me want to be in Ichigo's place with every fiber of my being. I theorized that it had something to do with knowing he was so powerful in comparison with human weakness. He could kill me, in the hypothetical situation where I was miraculously human, with the ease of a venus fly trap sucking down its prey. But, in this imaginitive world of mine, he would love me enough to be careful with my life. That's what I wanted.

Love was trusting another person with your life. Yes, I was taking it to a morbid level, but it was hard not to.

Besides, the way Byakuya was so careful not to hurt Ichigo unnecessarily was making me crazy.

Ivory fangs against tender skin... Pale lips touching Ichigo's tan throat... And that pink tongue, carefully sealing the two pinpricks.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them in a death grip. I could feel the red blush from hell burning from my shoulders to the tips of my ears.

Byakuya cradled the anemic, barely-concious Ichigo to his chest, and carefully handed him off to a fuming Grimmjow.

I hid my face in my knees, wishing the obvious arousal away.

I felt Byakuya's gaze on me briefly. I was huddling in the fetal position in the corner. He probably thought I was going to be sick. I guess I'd rather he thought I was sick than unimaginably horny.

He finally left, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn't been caught yet.

Grimmjow leered at me. "Need some help with that boner, wolf-boy?"

I made a garbled sound like "Aaack." Crap. Grimmjow.

"Shut up, Grimmjow. It's hard enough without you making snide comments," I countered.

"I'm sure it's hard enough!" Grimmjow cackled. Ichigo weakly bopped him in the ear.

"Shut up!" I snarled back.

It was going to be a long, hard night. And I wish I hadn't put it quite like that; I could already hear Grimmjow giggling in my head.

* * *

It had been almost a week since the...incident. The one where I ended up in the fetal position, being mercilessly teased by Grimmjow. I was so bored! Nothing interesting had happened since that night, and the monotony was beginning to drill into my skull. I didn't really care what happened as long as something happened before I died from lack of mental stimulation. Seriously. The sewers could back up for all I cared. Light my hair on fire! Something happen!

You know what they say about being careful what you wish for? Something finally happened. I'm starting to wish it hadn't.

Hitsugaya came down the stairs, and opened the cage door. Byakuya appeared from the stairway as well, looking emotionless as always.

"You two, come with me," he ordered Grimmjow and Ichigo.

"What about me?" I asked as Hitsugaya was closing the door again.

"You stay here, mutt."

Grimmjow and Ichigo looked apologetic, Grimmjow shrugging to say he didn't know what was going on either.

Suddenly, I was alone in the dank cell, wishing I had never wished at all.

Half an hour passed, and neither of them had returned. I tried to pass the time, pacing the length of the cell in human and wolf forms, alternately. It was good exercise; I needed practice switching forms as it was.

Two hours, and I had dinner alone. I thought it was strange that no dinner had showed up for either of them. It was almost as if they weren't coming back, but I wouldn't let myself think that way.

Five hours after they had left with Byakuya, I was getting lonely. The sun was setting, and it was cold even with all three blankets.

Eight hours had passed...where could they be?! I was worried and panicky now, without my two friends to comfort me.

Twelve hours had passed, and I knew they weren't coming back. I curled up in a little furry ball and puppy-cried myself to sleep. I told myself they would show up in the morning.

I awoke to the sound of dry dog food rattling as it hit the bottom of my plastic dish. The kitty dish had been removed, along with two of the cups, pillows, and blankets.

I was alone for good.

* * *

Byakuya was known for his ability to grow miraculously healing herbal teas, and for his black, ethereal passenger pigeons. Some claimed they were part hummingbird because they were smaller, lighter, and quieter than any other pigeon. Usually, they were the bearers of bad news, so one of Byakuya's less-than-happy correspondents started calling the feathered harbingers "hell butterflies".

The name stuck, and the pigeons had since been bred to be even quieter than their predecessors. They could fly completely undetected at night, making them even more mysterious.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi was not surprised when one of Byakuya's smallest hell butterflies alit softly on his chandelier, cooing to alert Kurotsuchi that she had a message for him. He stretched a pale hand up, letting the bird onto his hand, and unrolled the cylinder of paper from her leg. He scrawled a brief note on the backside of the paper, and tied it back on the bird's leg. She was sent back to Byakuya, and met two of her siblings back at his passenger pigeon aviary. A third arrived half an hour later, having made a longer trip than the rest. He shook sand out of his feathers and threw himself at the water dish as soon as Byakuya had removed the reply from his leg.

All four messages were affirmative; Soi Fon wanted to know if she should bring a fruit salad or a meat platter.

Byakuya shook his head. He knew she would bring an entire smoked pig no matter what he said, so he sent another bird back with a simple "Do as you will."

All of Byakuya's parties consisted of two events: a feast and a meeting. The guests were all important and influential aristocrats or higher, each of which would bring their best slaves to show off in hopes of selling or trading them. The feast was made and enjoyed by the slaves, as all but one of Byakuya's guests were strictly blood-drinkers. Soi Fon was actually part faerie, but she would slaughter anyone who mentioned it.

Sometimes the Demon Lord would partake in the feast, but he really enjoyed souls more than solid food. To each their own, Byakuya sighed. He wasn't sure where he could get any more souls for the Demon Lord this year. He'd have to see if Mayuri could conjure up some false souls again.

Another hell butterfly was sent to Mayuri. The mad scientist claimed that, because he was so good at what he did, he had found a way to create a more filling and flavorful false soul, but it would cost Byakuya a fair bit of gold.

Figuring the Demon Lord's continuing support was worth much more than a stack of shiny metal, he agreed after they both compromised on the price.

So, it was settled. The date was finally set for this meeting. They'd all known it would have to be soon, but the only day all five could agree on was two days from now.

It was time to get busy.

* * *

A/N: I want to thank everybody who thinks I'm not actually making this up as I go. You give me too much credit. Seriously, the idea of hell butterflies being passenger pigeons hit me suddenly, and was too good to pass up. And that's the least of the things I made up as I was writing this chapter.

Well, now we have quite a few conflicts to resolve. What is Shiro's deal? What happens when Ukitake runs out of tea? What happened to Grimmjow and Ichigo? How will this feast thing go? Who is the Demon Lord and the mysterious fifth member of the party? Will Byakuya ever figure out what love is? Tune in to the next compelling chapter of SabreWolf to find out!

Oh, and if you can guess both the Demon Lord and the mysterious fifth member of the party's identities, You get a cyber-cookie! C:


	5. Chapter 5: Greed

A/N: DUN DUN DUN. I think I should start playing the Imperial March or something.

On another note, almost everyone guessed the Demon Lord's identity right. Nobody correctly identified the fifth guest though, but that's ok because he's kinda lame/not important.

This chapter is the first one that really starts to earn the mature rating it has, just because of a certain, uh, person. He's a little bit...sexual. :D And fun to write. Also, Grimmjow is a warning all by himself.

* * *

Chapter 5: Greed

I woke to the sensation of being petted along my ribcage. While not entirely unpleasant, it was unnerving. I remembered being alone, so who was petting me?

Hitsugaya shook me again, rousing me completely. That's when I smelled it. It was hot, salty, and on a white plate in Hitsugaya's other hand.

A perfect slice of bacon, crinkled with heat and marbled with juicy white fat, exuded wonderful meaty perfumes from the ivory throne it sat on.

It looked so good, it was making drool and write delicious poetry simultaneously. Quite a feat.

"Grimmjow wanted you to have this. He says he burned it, but I can't find black on here anywhere." Hitsugaya waited for me to become human again before he handed me the toasty plate. "Be careful, it's still hot."

I tore off a greasy mouthful before what he had said hit me.

"Grimmjow?! Where is he? Is he ok? Where's Ichigo?!" I spluttered, trying not to lose precious bacon in the process.

"Calm down, Renji," the ice midget scolded me. I sat down again, my eyes huge with worry. "I thought someone would have told you by now. Both of your friends are perfectly fine. Better than fine, actually. Byakuya promoted them to the servant's quarters upstairs. I live up there too, right next door, actually."

"Grimmjow's only been here five months, and Ichigo's been here for just over three. I thought the new slaves were kept down here for six months minimum." I was puzzled.

"Or you can get out early for good behavior," Hitsugaya informed me. "Slaves are kept down here to be monitored. It's safer for the rest of us if someone who was brought here was a psychopath, for example. Good behavior means a slave is ready to take orders. Just be good, and you'll be living next door to them in a couple of weeks."

I nodded, not really sure if I was agreeing or just letting the information sink in.

"So...Grimmjow's cooking? Is this smart? He could burn the whole place down, given the chance."

"Oh, most of the slaves are being trained in all sorts of cooking right now. The yearly feast is coming up, and Byakuya wants this place to be clean and filled with good food. He has guests he tries to keep happy. As for Grimmjow, he's an excellent cook. Especially when he's cooking meat."

"And Ichigo?" I pressed.

"Bartender," Hitsugaya answered all questions with one word. "He also likes decorating each dish with sprigs of parsley and slices of lemon and the like. He says it's almost like interior design."

Well, I always knew Ichigo was as gay as the day was long, but that just clinched it. Interior design? Really?

"Will they ever come visit me?" I missed them both already. Life was bleak alone in a cage.

"Probably, after the feast. Byakuya is working them all to the bone. It's in two days, just so you know." Hitsugaya shrugged, turning his back to me. "There will be a few aristocrats here, slave holders. All of them will be accompanied by their most valuable or most well-behaved slaves. The best of those will trade hands sometime that night."

My stomach dropped through the concrete floor, and I didn't know why. I chalked it up to nerves, but my instinct told me something very bad was going to happen that night.

* * *

I was lonely when Hitsugaya came downstairs a second time. Hell, I was always lonely nowadays.

He was quick to inform me that another entire day and a half had passed. The guests would begin arriving in a few short hours, and the other slaves were already scurrying about.

My stomach lurched. I was less than twelve hours away from that dreaded dinner. Time could go no faster.

"Byakuya wishes you to retire to his personal bath again," Hitsugaya sighed, sounding as though he was repeating the message _verbatim_. "All the other slaves had their showers in the slaves' quarters, so I asked if I could bring you there. He refused, and said you needed to wear something the other aristocrats would find appealing." Hitsugaya looked torn. "I don't know what that would entail."

"A tux?" I joked humorlessly. Of course I was irritated, the bastard was still trying to get rid of me!

Hitsugaya wouldn't look me in the eyes. "Come on, Renji." He opened the cell door. "Time for another bath."

I shuffled placidly up to Byakuya's quarters, feeling a slight thrill as I laid eyes on his beautiful bed a second time. It was still covered in sakura petals, but the incense had changed and there were candles in the branches of the bronze tree.

It really was a beautiful room.

Hitsugaya pulled me into the bathroom, where the tub had already been filled with scented water. "I'll come back in fifteen minutes to wash your fur," he informed me, then left so quickly, anyone outside would think I was walking around naked.

Okay, so, now I was.

I messed around with the glass bottles, opening and smelling at random to find something I liked. I found a masculine body wash, spicy like cinnamon, and a chocolate-scented shampoo. I wasn't sure how it was made to smell like chocolate, because it sure didn't taste like it.

...What? I wanted to see if it tasted as good as it smelled.

It didn't. But it would do for shampoo.

Fifteen minutes later, Hitsugaya made good on his word and slowly opened the door. I gave him a look, and padded over to him. My nails clicked on the tile in a little rhythm, and he finally decided he was safe from my nakedness.

It felt wonderful to have someone work soap through my fur, and knocked a few bottles on the ground with my wagging tail. Hitsugaya paid close attention to my paws, rubbing the pads, getting soap between my toes, and even clipping the nails.

I had never been this clean in my life.

After the laborious process of drying my fur, I changed back into a human to help clean up. Hitsugaya waved a pair of black boxers at me blindly, as he clenched his eyes shut in a way that looked painful.

I laughed, pulling on the boxers and scruffing up his hair.

Just a little. The midget would get over it soon enough, I was sure.

I helped him pick up the spilled bottles, I drained the tub, I even helped mop. We washed the dirt ring out of the tub (I cringed a little when I saw how bad it was) and refolded the unused towels. All in all, I was on my best behavior.

Then, out of the blue...

"Sorry about this," Hitsugaya muttered. I would have said something in surprise, but there was a pinch on my neck and a cold sensation. Hitsugaya withdrew the needle, looking ashamed of himself.

That's when I started feeling really weird.

I know what it feels like to be intoxicated to the point of unconsciousness. Don't judge me. I don't get to drink very often, so when I do, I often overdo it. Besides, sake gets you inebriated much too quickly, and that's about the only alcohol I'd ever had.

It felt like the worst drinking party Shunsui could ever throw, combined with partial paralysis. I couldn't move for fear of knocking myself out with the effort. Everything swam in my vision, getting spottier as time scurried by. I think little patches of my memory were beginning to black out, and I was starting to go numb.

I wasn't quite unconscious, though that was probably what this drug was intended for. Yay for super werewolf genes.

That's when my memory went fuzzy.

* * *

Just as Byakuya had predicted, Soi Fon had brought an entire roast pig. What he hadn't been prepared for was the filleted dragon heart or the gargouille-shepherd's-pie. Each dish was large enough to feed everyone in the feast hall twice over, and the expensive silver platters madeByakuya's solid oak tables groan under the weight. She brought ten barrels of assorted alcohols, mostly sherry and beer, and a veritable tub of potato salad. One of her slaves, a beautifully bred half-were with an eternally transformed fox head, heaved in five huge bowls of chocolate ice cream. Byakuya's slaves flitted about, setting out plates, loading the tables with every kind of good food, cleaning and organizing, all while dancing out of everyoneelse's way. Ichigo made an appearance with a bag of parsley, fretting with the placement on each plate and fixing drooping sprigs of rosemary. Grimmjow dragged out a butcher-block cart and a huge knife, making a show of chopping up chicken breasts, eel fillets, and t-bone steaks. Hitsugaya made endless trays of ice cubes, passing them to Ichigo for his mojitos and margaritas. There was a short lull in the buzzing action when a new guest arrived, but Kurotsuchi sent one glare around the room and everyone went back to work. The mad scientist had brought a contraption that resembled a huge purple hookah, glowing faintly in the candelabra light.

"Mayuri, you may put the false souls at the far end of the table. The Demon Lord will sit in the fourth chair from the left."

The pale psychopath ordered one of his female slaves, Nemu, to place it where instructed. She greeted a strange man already seated at that end of the table who had snuck in unnoticed.

Kariya, an ancient but poor pureblood vampire, had arrived without any slaves. Byakuya was sure he'd have more soon, though, and kept inviting the power-mad man to his dinner parties. He was a strange one though, and that's why Byakuya had seated him at the end farthest from the Demon Lord and as far from himself as possible.

Everyone had arrived except for the mysterious Demon Lord, leaving about half the seats empty. The slaves chatted amiably among themselves, stealing bites of the fine food while they waited for the fashionably late Lord.

Kurotsuchi approached the bar, ordering a shot of Vodka straight from the Northern Wastes. He downed it in one go, then turned his creepy gaze toIchigo.

"Where's your friend, the mutt?" Mayuri hoarsely whispered. "I haven't seen him yet tonight."

"I...He's not here," Ichigo wavered, sliding a beer into the half-were's outstretched paw. "I haven't seen him lately," he elaborated.

"Oh, so you've been moved, and he's still in the cage? How sad for him," he leered knowingly.

Ichigo said nothing as he polished a wine glass with a white rag.

The silence was broken as the huge front doors swung open. Two high-ranking demons, dressed in snappy white clothes, entered the hall and flanked the doors. The one on the left couldn't seem to stop smiling, while the one on the right was impossibly solemn behind his sunglasses. Then, a stream of slaves marched in, two by two. All of them wore the same white clothes, cut to fit their personal style. Each slave carried aloft a massive platter of a popular food. A large demon near the back had a pizza; an effeminate demon in the middle had a heaping plate of spaghetti, complete with meatballs and a huge loaf of garlic bread.  
Two demons at the very front stood out. Both were slight of build, one with pink hair and glasses that he kept pushing back onto his nose. The other was smaller, solemn and dangerously pale. He had huge green eyes and a small platter of tomatoes.

Grimmjow inhaled sharply, drawing Ichigo's attention as his eyes went wide with shock.

"I know that guy," he whispered to Ichigo. He discreetly pointed at the small dark-haired demon. The green eyes flashed towards the duo, as if he had heard their comments.

Grimmjow went white.

A litter was carried through the doorway, four more demons supporting the weight of the Demon Lord and his portable throne. He directed them, with lazy sweeps of his pointer finger, to set him down beside his dinner chair.

He was very regal, but at the same time, very plain. His hair was a very normal brown, but his smile showed almost-not-fangs belying his lineage. He did everything with an infuriating relaxation: a wave of the hand here, a pressing together of his lips there, a slow bend of a finger to beckon the skinny pale demon forth. He plucked a tomato from this demon's platter, dangling a knife between his thumb and forefinger teasingly.

He cut the fruit with slow strokes of the blade, then fed his obedient slave one slice at a time. He placed the pale demon on his lap with the ease of a practiced waiter setting a teacup on a saucer. Another tomato was cut, this time shared between the two of them.

The rest of the demon servants began laying out their plates of food on a silent command nobody else had seen. The grinning demon was quick to bow at his lord's side, then press a patient kiss to the Demon Lord's lips.

Ichigo and Grimmjow exchanged looks. It was looking more and more like the Demon Lord was keeping some sort of...personal harem. Ichigo went red.

"Ah, Lord Aizen," Byakuya greeted his latest guest. He reached awkwardly around the demon in Aizen's lap to shake his hand. "You have brought so many new servants tonight, thank you."

Grimmjow snorted and bumped Ichigo's forearm with his elbow.

Ichigo dropped most of a watermelon daiquiri on the floor, and Grimmjow didn't notice.

"Hey, look," Grimmjow motioned with his head towards the aristocrats, "even Byakuya has to kiss the Demon Lord's--"

"Grimm," Ichigo warned, "you probably don't want to finish that sentence with so many ears around."

* * *

The first thing I want everyone to know is this: I would have fought it if I could.

I'm not sure when the red rubber thing got in my mouth, but it was starting to hurt my jaw. I fuzzily remembered it being strapped to my face with black leather straps, and shivered.

A ball gag. I've only ever heard of them before, and I've never wanted to be this intimately close to one, either.

Then I recognized the feeling of chafing in the one place a man should never have to feel chafing. I wanted to die...even more than I had wanted to recently.

Oh, bollocks, these pants are tight.

I wiggled my hips, trying to loosen them. My hands were tied behind my back, and I wasn't sure whether or not I was wearing a shirt. I was standing behindsomeone's shoulder in a hallway, waiting for something.

My head swam out-of-control again.

* * *

"Dinner is served," Byakuya announced slowly. He sat in the center seat, between the Demon Lord and Soi Fon, popping a cork out of a wine bottle with his bare hands.

The sudden pop started the action, turning the dinner table into a clamoring heap of excited servants. Plates and bowls clinked together as greedy hands snatched up whatever food could be found. Soups and salads quickly disappeared, and the line at the bar nearly overwhelmed poorIchigo. He grabbed an inexperienced Grimmjow, and ordered him to start pouring beers as fast as he could.

Both of them were too busy to notice the aristocrats appraising notable servants for trading, including a stumbling, familiar redhead.

Aizen's lip curled into a lewd smile as he saw what Renji was wearing. Soi Fon looked impressed, but jealous, and Kariya's expression hadn't changed once the entire night. Mayuri's eyes glowed when he saw the proud werewolf on a leash, and reminded himself that he could still trade for him.

If Aizen didn't get him first, that is. The Demon Lord was looking quite interested in adding this attractive servant to his household. Mayuri knew he couldn't compete with the Demon Lord once he had his eyes on something he liked.

Kurotsuchi had already been promised a new scientist-type servant, one of Aizen's demons. He looked a little silly with all that glasses-pushing and pink-hair-flipping, but he seemed to know his stuff. Besides, Aizen seemed to want to get rid of him for cheap, something about "reducing passion to vocabulary".

Aizen took a drag on the hookah-device, sucking down a long string of something translucent and smoky. He licked his lips like a cat, and repeated the gesture.

Kurotsuchi's mind raced. How was he going to get Aizen to let him have the werewolf? He could barter, but what with? Most of his servants were reduced to organs in a tube, or horriblemosters covered in too many limbs or eyes. This wolf looked stronger, he looked perfect for his newest experiment. Maybe he could showAizen how simple it was to create false souls? But then he'd lose all future bribery...

And then the slaves were sent back out, to a large anteroom behind the aristocrats.

Soi Fon was saying something about the wolf, and Kurotsuchi tried to appear interested.

"Why was the wolf so groggy?" she asked Byakuya accusingly. "Are you trying to trick us?"

Byakuya stared her down.

"He is difficult to break, and I wished to avoid a confrontation. Thus, I had another slave drug him for the time being. He should be wide awake and well-rested by tomorrow morning."

What Byakuya didn't say was the rest of the truth. He hadn't wanted to look into Renji's eyes and know that he had to give him to a noble who would probably hurt him more than Byakuya had. He didn't want to see the disappointment and hurt in the eyes that could hide nothing from him.

And he wanted to make Aizen squirm a little in excitement.

"Strong, sexy, and has to be both drugged and restrained to keep him tame? Hmm, I think I like him already," Aizen purred. He grabbed the demon in his lap by the hips, and moved him to straddle the Demon Lord's lap.

"Mmm," he muttered into his slave's ear, "you might have to take care of that later." He accompanied his words with a little pelvic thrust.

The dark-haired demon didn't react. All the other nobles pretended not to notice, staring at the table or at their feet.

Kurotsuchi saw his opening.

"I assume your bathrooms are this way, Kuchiki," he said, and quickly left before Byakuya could correct him.

* * *

Things were getting weird. All I could see was the inside of an old handkerchief, and it smelled disgusting to boot. Someone was dragging me along, down a hallway, up a few stairs, across a room... I lost track. I panicked when I couldn't hear the dinner party anymore, and instead could hear bugs and crunching grass.

I was pushed hard enough to make me stumble, and fell face-first into what had to be a carriage. A few more heave-hos, and I was sprawled on the floor of the carriage with my butt in the air. I couldn't move to get up or roll over, and it was getting so cold...

The carriage door slammed shut. I was alone, and it was getting so dark now.

* * *

Kurotsuchi waved Nemu over as soon as he had returned from his bathroom excursion. "We have to leave soon, get everything," he ordered. She gave a little bow and left to efficiently gather everyone up.

"I'm sorry, Kuchiki, but it seems I must adjourn from this meeting a bit early. None of your wares are particularly exciting to me, and I must get home to my experiments. Goodbye,Kuchiki."

Before Byakuya could protest, the man and all of his subordinates had flitted off. It was disturbing how quickly that man could move when he chose to. It all seemed a bit suspicious, butByakuya waved it off in front of his other guests.

"It seems Kurotsuchi has to run back to his chemistry set," Byakuya joked. He waved over Ichigo, who was supposed to be taking drink orders.

He ran to the table with a notepad and a pen, ready to jot down notes on preferred brands of alcohols or garnishes. Grimmjow tried not to hover like a worried mother hen, but he didn't like his berry-head being around that horrible demon--oh, and the man he was sitting on. He sauntered over with an angry smile and his hands shoved into his pockets, trying to look casual in the face of lechery.

The little lap-demon turned to face Grimmjow, and static audibly crackled between the two of them.

"Ulquiorra," he hissed.

"Grimm-kitty," Ulquiorra said with a perfectly straight face, "just as docile as I remember you."

Ichigo was amazed. This guy knew exactly how to push all of Grimmjow's buttons _exactly_.

"Grimm," Ichigo scowled, "not now."

"I'll have a Skinned Cat," Soi Fon ordered. "Instead of cream, I'd like white chocolate floated to the bottom."

Grimmjow winced.

"Gin and tonic, extra lime," Kariya said shortly. Ichigo scribbled it down.

"A dozen shots of your finest chocolate liqueur, for me and him," Aizen grinned again. "Chocolate is a natural aphrodesiac, you know."

Ichigo resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and Grimmjow resisted the urge to tear his right out of his head.

"Bring the bottle of wine I showed you earlier," Byakuya commanded. "Four wineglasses."

Ichigo gave a little bow, and grabbed Grimmjow's ear to drag him back to the bar.

"Do _not_ go back over there," he growled at his lover. "Look, if you're good for the rest of the night, I'll sneak some booze into our bedroom, alright?"

"Alright, alright," Grimmjow growled. "Does this mean you'll let me do body shots?" He smiled cheekily at his blushing berry-head.

Ichigo hit him with a nearby stack of napkins. "Not so loud, you idiot!"

"So that's a yes?"

Ichigo smacked him again.

* * *

Mayuri grinned as he laid Renji, facedown and naked, on a surgical steel table. His limbs were restrained with leather straps, a bit of overkill in his drugged state. The pink haired demon, called Szayel, helped slide a four inch long needle underneath the skin next to Renji's spine. An IV drip was started in his arm, putting a clear electrolyte solution directly into his bloodstream. As Szayel added a pink solution to the IV, Kurotsuchi withdrew a spinal fluid sample.

The rosy pink solution was oily, entering his bloodstream in thick globules.

Kurotsuchi and Szayel waited expectantly, but nothing happened for ten long minutes.

"It...must be the drugs," Szayel offered. "You'll have to wait for them to flush from his system."

"I don't have that kind of time, Szayel," Mayuri whined. He dug through his messy desk drawers, desperately looking for something.

He finally pulled out a dirty glass bottle with a black semi-solid inside. A piece of masking tape with the word "Experimental" written on it was stuck over the lid.

"Aha, I'll get to try this too," he gave an oily chuckle.

He injected the black concoction directly into the base of Renji's spine. There were five long minutes of disappoited waiting, and then Renji began to scream.

* * *

The morning after the dinner party, Byakuya's slaves were grudgingly wiping down every surface, putting away every glass, and polishing every dish. Everyone had left happily, with filled bellies and new slaves. Byakuya was pretty sure he needed to burn Aizen's chair (Again! Every time he hosted a dinner party!), and in the chocolate, alcohol, and sex-induced haze, the Demon Lord had completely forgotten the beautiful werewolf.

Byakuya hadn't. He wouldn't tell anybody why he was turning over tables, ripping through doors, and thundering around the house. Grimmjow and Ichigo had been a little more tactful in their search, but they hadn't found him either.

Finally, they confronted the aristocrat.

"Where's Renji?" Ichigo asked calmly. The two crusaders had decided it would be better if Ichigo did the talking, because Grimmjow was furious.

Byakuya ignored him, folding a blanket he'd torn off the back of a couch.

"We just want to know if he's okay," Ichigo continued.

Byakuya still said nothing.

"Hey, you big prick, where the hell's our friend?" Grimmjow asked as politely as he could manage.

"I don't know," Byakuya stated flatly. "I have a feeling he was stolen last night by Kurotsuchi."

"The HELL?!" Ichigo and Grimmjow exclaimed in unison.

"Do you even care that he's gone?!" Grimmjow roared, discipline flying happily out the window.

Byakuya weighed his options. "He's just a slave--"

There was an audible crack as Grimmjow's knuckles met Byakuya's cheekbone. The aristocrat crumpled, a bruise already blossoming across his face.

"He loves you, get that through your thick skull!" Grimmjow yelled again as Byakuya froze in shock. "We're gonna go get him, you stay here and--" Grimmjow suggested he do several things so horrible, I can't even write them here. Ichigo stood there in shocked amazement, his mind literally rocked.

Grimmjow ended his filthy, curse-filled rant by spitting on the ground.

"Let's go, Ichigo, since we're obviously the only ones Renji can count on."

With that, the two of them walked out the door.

* * *

Renji couldn't stop screaming until his throat was raw. He tried slipping into wolf form to lessen the pain, but it intensified instead. He howled in pain, wishing with every bit of himself he could still feel that his cries wouldn't fall on deaf ears.

His wish came true as a pair of mottled, dirty, grizzled ears twitched at the sound of his agony.

* * *

A/N: CLIFFIE, PLZ DON'T KILL MEEEEE :x

Yeah, that took forever...I had writer's block so bad, I thought I was gonna give up. But then I remembered all my wonderful readers and said to myself, "Buck up, Byrd, you've got a lot of people counting on you to write this thing. So do it."

...And I know Kariya was lame, but that makes him IC, amirite? XD (Nobody knows about Kariya...hahaha...)

I thought sexaddict!Aizen would be funny. It was. Even if only I think so. (I mean, he has all those arrancar like "Ooh Master Aizen, I'll do whatever you saaaay..." What am I supposed to think? Oh, and I support Aizen/Gin, because villainsex is hot. Usually.) If you got the tomato reference, uber!props to you.

Hey look! This chapter had no angsty Ukitake and no creepy Shirosaki! What is wrong with me? Oh yeah, they're in the next two chapters.

Seriously, next chapter is gonna be a doozy. Really. I'm kinda scared to write it.

So, uh, long A/N is long. Tell me what you think is going to happen! I love to read my readers' predictions!


	6. Chapter 6: Wrath, Part A

Chapter 6: Wrath, Part A

HEY LOOK GUYS A NEW CHAPTER HO SHIIII---

Excuse for my near-inexcusable lateness: I was raped by school. The End! But thank you so much to the reviewers who sent me nice messages and prodded me into writing again! (I laugh because I wrote parts of this in class under the guise of taking notes.) By the way, I keep a fairly current update of how well I'm doing on the top of my profile page, so my readers can see what's going to be updated next.

I got around to thinking after I posted the last chapter (scary, I know) and realized I hadn't cleared something up.

I realize Mayuri and Szayel don't get along at all. I get it. But in my opinion, if they were on the same side, they'd either be rivals or BFFs. I can just see Szayel painting Kurotsuchi's nails as he chatters about the shoes (or bling'd-out syringes) he just bought.

A/N: Hmm...which sin is left? *chuckles evilly*

Try to get that image out of your head now. :D

To all those people who told me not to hurt Renji too much...uh, my bad? *hides under desk*

NECESSARY WARNING: This chapter is filled with violence. If you thought that little paragraph at the end of the last chapter was bad, then you won't believe this. The fur will fly (...bad pun is bad). It is necessary violence. The chapter is titled Wrath, did you see that? Pissed off people tend to be violent.

THIS SHOULD BE ENOUGH WARNING FOR EVERYONE HERE.

Also, medical gore. Angst. Alcohol usage (AKA Shunsui). Things of that nature. Hi.

Thank you. I just wanted to be sure everyone here knows what to expect, in the vaguest way possible. Have a nice day!

* * *

Ichigo was sure he'd been here before. There were flames, and the smell of fresh dirt and charred flesh. He was small and pudgy with youth, about ten years of age, and he had awoken with a jump. It was too hot, everywhere (even in his bones), and there were flames shooting from the hallway, threatening to enter his bedroom. Another little boy, who looked almost the same as Ichigo, shared his bed. He hadn't awoken yet, even though the flames crept closer and the heat threatened to suffocate them both.

"Brother! Wake up!" Ichigo shook the other little boy in vain. His brother's skin was even more pale than usual, which was saying something. He was usually called "Shirosaki" or just "Shiro" because of how pale his face and hands always were. Now, they were ashy-grey, and Shiro's breathing was shallow.

Ichigo had been here before, he knew it, but maybe, this time, he could change what had happened. The fire had begun devouring the rafters greedily, bringing down a pine log wider around than Ichigo. Shards of shattered embers erupted everywhere, burning through the bed sheets and sending flames licking through the cotton. Ichigo threw himself out of bed, and grabbed Shiro to heave him outside as well. Now the fire had begun consuming the floorboards like a starved wolf on a lamb as the heat snapped apart the boards. Shiro refused to wake still, and he was too heavy for Ichigo's scrawny body. Ichigo stumbled, crying out in pain as his face started to blister from the heat.

Ichigo managed to roll outside and into the snow bank. Winter's gift put out the fire on his dirty clothes and in his skin, but started to melt even this far from the house. The wood was now a furnace, a cremation chamber, a hell.

He had left Shiro inside in his haste, once again.

Ichigo sobbed until he couldn't feel the heat anymore, but instead could feel Grimmjow's strong arms and concerned kisses. He was still resting in the forest, by the campfire, and safe in the panther's embrace. "I'm fine," he told Grimmjow, and waved off the concern. This dream was very familiar to him. He had it almost every week. He would smile and shake it off, just like he always did, and forget about it in an hour or two, just like he always did.

But he still couldn't shake the feeling that this time, things were different.

* * *

Nanao stared at her feet as she opened the last bag of tea leaves. It was so horrible, to watch it come to this. They would try to stretch it out as much as they could, but by the looks of things, Ukitake had three, maybe four more days to live.

On the other hand, the little koi Ukitake had tried to save was doing much better now. Almost too well, Nanao recalled. He had grown very quickly, becoming one of the biggest fish in the pond. If only it would do the same for Ukitake.

Shunsui bustled into the kitchen, reeking of alcohol and slurping down another bottle of pure sake. He was taking the situation very, very badly. He was drowning his woes in alcohol, the only way to deal with the depression the entire household was suffering from.

Ukitake, the person most affected by the lack of tea, was also the person most at peace. He refused to be afraid of dying, and had accepted his fate as soon as he heard the news. "If it's my time, I'll go peacefully," he promised. "I can't fight Death, so I might as well make the most of my time here, and then embrace whatever the future may hold."

Shunsui had started sobbing uncontrollably after that speech, and Nanao wasn't sure how she'd kept herself from crying.

A little packet of normal tea leaves fell from an upper cupboard, jolting Nanao out of her reverie.

"...Five days," she whispered to herself as she mixed in the magic-less tea leaves. "I can make him last five days, no more."

* * *

Renji was no longer screaming. The black powder had worked all pollutants from his body, leaving him temporarily mute and shivering in the aftershock of intense pain. He was still conscious-a blessing in most cases, but not in this one-and Mayuri had decided that he was well enough to test on a second time.

"Good boy," Mayuri crooned, scraping his long, black nails across Renji's bare back. "You'll do beautifully. Szayel, bring the first vial."

The mad scientist called the pink, oily fluid an agent of "Total Physio-psychological Manual Manipulation."

Szayel, after reading the lab report, called it "Liquid Possession."

"This is an experimental batch of harvested souls," Mayuri explained. "They are poltergeists, different from other souls because of their ability to possess a living host and inhabit it in the same way as the host's own living soul. If that soul can then be controlled by an outside source, the host becomes a drone for that person. This technique has been only theory for ages, but with the new multi-frequency controller I've developed, it could be possible to control anyone!"

Renji gulped. He was going to be...experimented on? Possessed? Controlled? He whimpered in fear as Szayel cracked a whip.

"If the soul is unworthy," Mayuri continued explaining, "it will try to remain in the host's body indefinitely. The only way to relieve the host of such a burden is to cause enough pain to the host's body to flush the soul out."

"In other words," Szayel tickled his cheek with a loop of the whip, "I will have the pleasure of beating it out of you."

Renji closed his eyes, cringing away from the horrible scientists and their horrible methods.

"Of course, I've tried this procedure before, on my own slaves. None of them were successful, unfortunately. Most of them lived, some of them even kept their minds. It was brilliant of me to recognize how unique you are; you've proven yourself so much more emotionally strong than anyone else I've seen before, so spirits can be tested for quality more easily within you. Because of this strength, the worthy spirits will immediately try to prove they are stronger, crushing the very life out of you. It is one of the more painful processes of dying, or so I'm told."

"To make things easier for you to understand, mutt," Szayel laughed, "If you don't start screaming when the spirit is injected, I'll make you scream myself."

Renji gulped. Maybe he would be strong enough to survive this. Maybe he would be able to--

Mayuri slid the first needle into Renji's IV, injecting a wriggling pink mass into the tube. Both scientists watched the poltergeist worm its way into Renji's arm, and hoped for the screams of success.

After a few drops of the oily substance had leaked into Renji's bloodstream, his nerve endings lit on fire again. It was worse this time, because he couldn't scream. His vocal cords and his lungs were tearing apart from the inside, he was coughing up his own blood, and suddenly, he wasn't in control of his body anymore. He clenched up, unable to breathe or blink or spit out the copper-tasting liquid in his throat.

Then, Renji started feeling numb, as though he were floating. Another consciousness bumped up against his, promising to be gentle as it took over his body. His eyes started to close as the pain dulled away. _Am I dying?_

"It must be a bad spirit," Mayuri commented. "Szayel, you'll have to beat it out of him."

Pink-hair nodded, brandishing the whip he'd pulled out of a filing cabinet. The leather cracked across Renji's back over and over.  
_Snap. Crack. Snap._

Renji's back arched, even though he felt no pain. Something gaseous and that same shade of pink began rising off of his back. The pink cloud tried to gather itself into a more stable form, and became a sphere. It suddenly shattered into a million shards of impossible rosy haziness. It was like it had thrown itself from Renji's body, escaping the pain.

Renji snapped back into his physical form with a waterfall of agony. He finally coughed out a mouthful of blood, and something that might have once been a part of his lungs.

"Try the next vial," Mayuri ordered.

_Next vial?_ The first one was incinerated as the welts on Renji's back started to rise.

Szayel opened a freezer case, revealing hundreds upon hundreds of rows of vials. Each one was filled with the same identical pink liquid.

"We have to test each one individually, in order to find the ones that work," Kurotsuchi giggled. "Isn't this such fun?"

Another syringe of pink liquid was injected into the IV tube, and the process restarted itself.

* * *

Byakuya lounged in his bathtub, trying to clear his thoughts.

Love? What did that even mean? How could Renji, a slave, and more importantly, a man, love _him_? But Grimmjow had seemed convinced, and willing to go as far as violence to convince him.

Maybe that meant something?

But Grimmjow had someone to love. Byakuya tried, only for a moment, to entertain the thought of himself and Renji in the place of Grimmjow and Ichigo. Renji was Ichigo, pretending he didn't notice Byakuya's perverted advances...

Wait, that didn't fit at all.

Maybe if Renji was the loudmouthed, perverted one?

But Byakuya refused to picture himself as the bottom.

Hmm, this was problematic.

Byakuya shifted in the tub, leaning his head back far enough to soak his raven hair. He wrapped his arms around himself protectively, and scowled. There was something different about Renji. He wasn't like the other slaves. While most slaves became faceless drones in Byakuya's mind, some actually managed to border on endearing. Ichigo, Grimmjow, and Hitsugaya all fell into this selective grouping. Renji...did not. He was something entirely different, but Byakuya didn't know what kind of different it was.

Maybe it was a different breed of love? Byakuya tried to remember exactly how Soi Fon went about breeding her weres and half-weres. Maybe it was like that.

Renji, the unbreakable, snarky, beautiful werewolf. Loved him. The thoughts wouldn't fit together, almost like a puzzle with one piece turned upside-down. Love. Renji...could he love Renji back?

The werewolf hated taking orders. That much was obvious from the tension in his spine, the flip of his hair, the curl of his sneer. And yet, he had always done everything Byakuya had ordered him to do, with minimal resistance.

Because it was him, Byakuya, asking him to do it, he realized. Renji would go against everything he stood for to please Byakuya.

Byakuya suddenly hated himself.

Then, because Fate is a fickle goddess, a painful realization pounded against his skull.

Renji had been taken by Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Not just taken, but stolen from him. The Mad Scientist, Mayuri Kurotsuchi. The same man who had no respect for life and no qualms about putting someone down like a mad dog. Mayuri Kurotsuchi...had his Renji. _His_ Renji.

Renji was his, and he was Renji's.

Maybe that's what their love is meant to be.

* * *

After Grimmjow was sure his "frail" little Berryhead was up for the next leg of their journey, he dragged Ichigo off again. They weren't going in a specific direction, and the rocks and trees started to look familiar.

Grimmjow wouldn't admit it, but Ichigo would.

"We're completely lost, aren't we?"

"Shut up! We are _not_ lost. I know where _we_ are, I just don't know where _anything else_ is," Grimmjow attempted to explain intelligently.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Well, that's helpful."

"Shhh," Grimmjow waved a hand at him. "I'll see if I can see anything up this tree." He slid into his cat form, and then clambered up the tree trunk as if gravity didn't exist. With a fluid motion, he wound himself around branches until he found one to his liking.

"There's some smoke or something over there," he yelled back down, sitting comfortably with one hand clamped down on a higher branch. "Maybe it's a campfire!"

"Grimmjow, I'm pretty sure Mayuri's manor is _that_ way," Ichigo sighed and pointed in the direction opposite Grimmjow's "campfire".

Grimmjow shifted, pulling himself to a higher branch. "It can't be, I don't see anyth--!" His eyes popped.

"Do you see it now?!" Ichigo shouted up to him.

"Uhh...dark manor, sprawling layout, possible hedge maze, pointy towers, aura of thunderstorms and doom?"

"Oh, that has GOT to be it," Ichigo groaned.

* * *

After getting completely lost seven more times and making Grimmjow climb up seven more trees, Ichigo and Grimmjow stumbled upon the very stereotypical villain's lair. Okay, so it lacked a moat filled with electric eels, man-eating sharks, or lava, but the gate was pretty impressive.

The lock wasn't quite so impressive, though, and after watching Grimmjow wrestle with the wrought iron for several hilarious minutes, Ichigo took pity on him and picked the lock.

"I coulda done that," Grimmjow snorted, feeling slightly emasculated.

"Whatever you say, Grimm-kitty."

"Do you want me to re-assert my dominance _right here on this lawn_?" Grimmjow hissed.

"I'm good, really." Ichigo reached the manor's front door. _Oak_, he thought approvingly, _though black pine would have brought out the soft blue tones in the stone better_...

"I thought so," Grimmjow smirked. "And stop stroking that door. If you're gonna stroke something like that, you could always stroke my--"

"_Would you just open it?!_" Ichigo hissed.

Grimmjow shoved, hard, and the door popped open. "That wasn't even hard, girly."

Ichigo gaped, and ceased to function properly. He gave an overly dramatic anime full-body point, and Grimmjow made the mistake of turning to look.

"DEAR BABY JESUS," the werecat exclaimed, and wrenched the door back closed. "What. Was. That."

"I-I-I dunno," Ichigo gibbered, "It had eyes, too many eyes, and tentacles EVERYWHERE..."

"Definitely Japanese."

"What are you gonna do about it? We have to save Renji!"

"Here's the plan. You push the door open and I'll rip its...its...something out." Grimmjow quickly morphed and crouched into a pouncing position.

Ichigo pushed. The door creaked, the blue panther snarled, and bits of something spoogey and green-brown and tentacled flew everywhere. A happy werecat trotted back out of the mess, the ooze clinging to his fur and dripping from his whiskers.

"Gross, it smells!" Ichigo plugged his nose. It had the distinct, pungent odor of gym shorts and surstromming.

"Nasty," Grimmjow agreed, and then cheerfully mimed licking it off his hands. Ichigo looked a little green.

"Okay, okay, we have to hurry." As if on cue, the sound of Renji crying out in unimaginable agony rang through the manor. Grimmjow's sense of humor instantly dried up.

"What are they...?" Grimmjow gasped, looking honestly disturbed. He shifted again, padding silently down the long hall to try to find stairs. The screams were coming from below them. A basement, or a cellar, perhaps?

The manor was architecturally and fundamentally beautiful, but covered in all sorts of miscellaneous clutter and unidentifiable gore. The entire first floor was filled with old papers, ripped clothes, broken furniture, and bloodstains. It wasn't like Mayuri purposely ruined the manor, it seemed as though he just didn't care.

A rat ran past Ichigo--a five-pound, six-legged, purple rat. To say Ichigo jumped would be a gross understatement.

"This manor--" Ichigo hissed at Grimmjow "--it doesn't have any guards, because Mayuri lets his failed experiments wander freely...how sick!"

Grimmjow raised a feline eyebrow.

"Have you been using your eyes? Everything's broken and there was that tentacle monster and the purple rat, did you even see that?"

Grimmjow dispatched another failed experiment, this one made of naked muscle and strings of bloody flesh. Then another, a man with a wolf's head that had been attached backwards. They slowly battled their way through legions of horrific sights, Grimmjow ripping apart flesh and goo indiscriminately as Ichigo tried to point him in the right direction. They'd trekked across a mile's worth of twisted hallways and ripped through too many creatures to count. Grimmjow was starting to get tired out, and the disfigured humanoid things just kept appearing.

"Try that door," Ichigo suggested. Grimmjow released the green-tinted throat he had just ripped out, and twisted the knob with a massive paw.

"Jackpot! Looks like we found the stairwell!"

"Finally," Grimmjow whined. "I'm going to be brushing my teeth for weeks when this is all over and done with."

Ichigo jumped down flight after flight of stairs, using the handrail as a brake when going around sharp corners. Grimmjow was right behind him, stumbling along once or twice. They reached the bottom, where the screams were ear-shattering, just to find another door. It had a boarded-up window and a biohazard sign, and was the same light gray of bird crap.

"Should I go? Or are you gonna go first?" Ichigo asked.

There was no answer. Ichigo whipped around just in time to see Grimmjow's limp body hit the floor.

"_Run_," Grimmjow hissed before falling unconscious completely. Ichigo, startled witless by the thick-needled syringe protruding from Grimmjow's neck and the sudden appearance of the same pink-haired demon from the dinner party, did just that.

Szayel smirked, and casually watched the human go. His new, more interesting master would only want the werecat.

* * *

Ulquiorra poked the dying embers of his small fire, stirring up the warmth that was left. He had seen his opportunity last night, and ran. There would be no more taking orders from that horrible demon, no more going through empty actions to please his so-called master.

He was his own master now.

He was sure Aizen wouldn't be looking for him anytime soon, because of the drugs he'd slipped into the Demon Lord's drink. It would take him at least a week to recover from the long-lasting, head-pounding, nausea-inducing hangover he'd have.

Ulquiorra grinned slowly, faintly. He was free to do whatever he wanted. Such a change from his usual apathetic serving-his-master goals. It was refreshing. He could give or take as he wished, without the consent of such a foolish King.

He knew exactly what he was going to destroy first.

* * *

Ichigo slumped to the ground, exhausted, heartbroken, and disappointed in himself. He sank with his back against a rotting log, ignoring the ants that attacked his shirt. He was so useless. He'd gone to save Renji, and instead, lost his lover and ran like a scared bunny rabbit. How pathetic. He wouldn't let himself cry in rage, but he was close.

"Tch, too bad you can't get him back without help, weakling."

Ichigo's head snapped up. Shiro towered over him, his face perfectly neutral. Ichigo cringed at the words.

They were all true.

"Leave me alone. I thought you left a while ago. Years, even."

"Naw, you can't get rid of the great Shirosaki that easily. Even death won't stop me. You should know something about my death, Ichigo."

"Shiro, I--"

"Stop talking, little one. Here's the deal. I will help you, for a price."

Ichigo hung his head. Nothing could go right today. Even the poltergeist couldn't see he had nothing more to give.

"What do you want from me, Shiro?"

"Ah, nothing much. I just wanted back some of the life that you stole from me, in the form of control over your body." Shiro grinned; he had Ichigo trapped now. The boy was too noble for his own good. If sacrificing himself could save his friends, he'd do it in an instant. As for his life being stolen...that was up for interpretation.

"Fine," Ichigo growled in frustration, "you can take what you please, just don't hurt my friends. I thought I apologized for what I did?" Now burning, frustrated tears were trickling down Ichigo's face, and he couldn't even feel them.

"If you did, I sure as hell wasn't there. You did a good job of pretending it never happened...pretending _I_ never happened. You pretend every week that you don't remember your own failure." Shiro frowned.

"Then, please, Shiro...you're here now." Ichigo knelt before Shiro, his eyes huge and watery. He didn't know how the poltergeist felt until now. "I'm so very sorry for all I've done. I never meant to hurt you, or leave you, or let you die. You were the one person I wanted to protect as a child, after everyone else left us or died, and I even failed that. Please believe me, Shiro. I'm sorry." He took one of Shiro's slender hands in his own, and leaned his forehead against it. "Please, can you forgive me?"

Shiro pulled Ichigo up by the hand with another manic grin, but shook his head. "Can you forgive yourself...brother? That is the real question."

Ichigo looked at his feet. "I--"

"I accept your apology, though. Just stop being a whiny little bastard, okay?" Shiro griped.

Ichigo tried not to look too happy with the huge storm cloud of problems still looming overhead. But somehow, this acceptance overwhelmed him with thanks. He threw an arm around his twin brother, murdered by Ichigo's own survival instinct. "Thank you, brother."

"Don't thank me yet. You still owe me your body, whenever and wherever I'd like." Shiro grinned so widely, it was plausible that his face might split in half. "I can think of so many things I'd like to do with it."

"I'm sure you can. We have to rescue Grimmjow and Renji first, though. Hold up your end of the deal, brother." It felt so strange to say it again, but Ichigo just couldn't stop.

"Of course, brother. Now let me take over, just to see what is possible and what is not. You'll keep your consciousness. Just let me try."

Ichigo hesitated. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Shirosaki cocked his head. "You can't, of course. After all, you left me to die. I might kill you for that, for all you know. And yet, you have to let me if you want any chance of saving your friends."

"I see. Then, how do I know it's even you? I mean, you could just be an illusion, or a ghost masquerading as my brother."

Shirosaki kept smiling, a silent repeat of his last answer.

Ichigo nodded his acceptance. No matter what the cost, it was worth it.

The poltergeist slid into his body one limb at a time, being careful to let Ichigo see every move he made. Finally, with Shiro's chest still protruding from Ichigo's stomach, he gave his last audible orders to his host.

"Relax, but don't fall on your head, okay? I have to attach myself slowly to keep my new body in one piece. Don't fight me; work with me, unless you'd like to tear yourself in half. Got it?"

Ichigo nodded slowly, feeling lightheaded and nauseous. Shiro slowly retracted into Ichigo's chest, and Ichigo slowly released a huge lungful of air to calm himself.

"Relax," the spirit whispered, now inside his head. "This won't hurt...much."

Shiro fit his hand precisely into Ichigo's, fitting each finger into the correct position the same way you'd put on a too-small glove. The pain wasn't exactly pain, Ichigo realized, more like a mild electric shock of strange warm energy. An electric shock doesn't hurt, exactly. It feels strange and uncomfortable, but not really painful. This sensation was the same.

Shiro carefully extended his legs, toeing into Ichigo's feet with the grace of a ballet dancer. Then Shiro fit his other arm, his slowly unrolling torso, and all the way to Ichigo's face. Ichigo accepted the intrusions rather than pushing them away, as Shiro had ordered, and the lines between the two souls began to blur. They became one being within Ichigo's body, each separate and yet together. The twins breathed together, blinked together, pressed their palms together in experimental curiosity, and then smiled in understanding. They jumped together, kicked together, balanced together, laughed together. They knocked down entire trees with their bare hands, ripping a hole in the maze of branches. They were running, feeling the wind whip past their face, overjoyed by nothing and everything and life and just being who they were. Their thoughts buzzed back and forth between them, filled with wonder and thanks and apologies and understandings, fear and hope and regret and mischief. Ichigo was amazed that his body could move so quickly, so powerfully, so gracefully. Shiro bathed in the sensations of being alive; touch and smell and breath and the beating of a heart in his chest.

They both heard it at the same time. A deep, raspy, throaty growl tore itself from the throat of a nearby monster. The twins wheeled around to see what it was, digging their heels into the crunchy, patchy grass. They caught a glimpse of something dark and huge, before they both felt the pain of a massive claw scrape over Ichigo's ribs.

A massive gray-black werewolf, standing at least twice the height of Renji himself, licked the blood from his battle-worn paw. The twins had conflicting thoughts of fighting or fleeing, causing Ichigo's body to freeze on the spot.

"Why do you smell of him, abomination?" the werewolf growled through teeth the size of Ichigo's forearms. Ichigo was surprised; this were could speak even while shifted.

"You don't smell so great yourself, furball," Shiro spat back. "Why the hell did you attack me? I wasn't doing anything to you."

"You smell of him," he repeated, "I heard him crying for me. Where is he? What have you done to him?" The were looked positively livid now, red-gold eyes searching for whoever Ichigo supposedly smelled of.

"Who is 'him'?" Shiro demanded.

Something tiny and bubble-gum pink dashed past the massive were. A baby fox, another were by the look of her, was studying them with unreadable intent.

She shifted into her human form: a tiny pink-haired girl with adorable proportions.

"Is this bad man bothering you, Kenny?" she spoke, her voice high-pitched and a bit grating. She scampered up his broad back and nestled between his thick neck and muscled shoulder, perfectly happy with this position.

"He smells like Renji, Yachiru."

Ichigo jumped at that name. "You're looking for Renji? We...uh, I am too. In fact, I know where he is, I just need help getting in to rescue him."

"Hah, nice try, kid. I'm not fooled that easily. You're probably the one who hurt him in the first place."

"He's not," came a deep, strangely familiar voice. "Mayuri Kurotsuchi is still hurting him as we speak."

Ichigo turned to find Aizen's pale-faced lap demon, solemnly stating the facts.

"Because this human is alone, I can only assume that his werecat lover was taken prisoner also," he sighed. "A shame, but we'll have to rescue him too, I suppose."

"What the hell?!" Ichigo exclaimed, "Why are you out here too?!"

Ulquiorra looked him straight in the eyes, completely emotionless.

"I want to kill Mayuri Kurotsuchi with my own hands. If I help you in the process, then so be it."

This puzzled Ichigo. The lap-demon had seemed just fine where he was last night.

"But why him? What has he done to you?"

"Does it matter to you?" Ulquiorra questioned Ichigo as if he were mentally deficient. "I'm going to kill him, so that makes us allies. You can either take my help, or stay out of my way."

Ichigo didn't quite understand his logic, but help was help.

"Sure," he shrugged, "but we have to tell Byakuya first," Ichigo insisted, "since Renji is still his slave." _And his love interest_, he added mentally.

"Then what are we waiting for?" the huge werewolf sounded suddenly delighted. "There's a battle to be had!"

The little girl clapped her hands. "Yay! Battles with Kenny are always fun!"

"Wait," Ichigo stopped him, "what did you say your name was?"

The gray werewolf leered down at him with massive yellowing teeth and claws itching for a fight.

"Do you really want to know?"

The twins nodded.

"Zaraki Kenpachi. The Nightmare."

Even Shiro couldn't stop himself from gulping from the nervous thrills of adrenaline that shot through Ichigo's body. If Renji needed help, this is where he was sure to find it.

* * *

Renji's back was in shreds, barely holding him together anymore. His lungs were nearly as bad, torn inside and out from his tissue-expelling coughs and terrified cries for any sort of help.

Blood trickled from both corners of his mouth, staining the operating table and his chest. Kurotsuchi and Szayel had found only one usable poltergeist so far, which they had withdrawn from Renji's body along with a fair amount of his blood. His head was spinning, and he'd almost blacked out during the process. Szayel had ordered a tiny little girl with green hair, a filthy green smock, and a penchant for referring to herself in the third person to patch his lungs up. She finished with a quick wave of her chubby hands, an innocent, hopeful smile at Renji, and a quiet "Don't worry, Nell made you better!" Now they'd given him a few minutes to recover, so they could play with their new "toy".

Grimmjow was also laid face-down on another operating table, this one even rustier than Renji's. He was handcuffed by the wrists, but otherwise unbound. After all, he was unconscious, and drugged heavily besides.

Kurotsuchi and Szayel muttered something between the two of them, and pink-hair gave an approving "mmmm". Kurotsuchi produced a scalpel, already covered in crusted blood, and made two quick incisions on the nape of Grimmjow's neck. Szayel stabbed yet another needle into the deep wound, and re-injected the pink blob they'd extracted from Renji.

"Now, to test the controller..." Kurotsuchi trailed off, and entered an adjoining room.

* * *

Hitsugaya was not moping. He did not mope. Maybe he shuffled his feet a little, and hung his head a little, but he did not mope. He felt guilty for drugging one of his only friends. But he'd been under explicit orders, he reminded himself.

He was nearly flattened when the front door of Byakuya's mansion burst inwards and a familiar berry head sprinted in.

"Ichigo, did you find him?" Hitsugaya yelled at him.

"Hey, ice midget! Yeah, I found him. Where the hell's Byakuya?"

This was not Ichigo, Hitsugaya realized, after seeing the crazed look in his eyes and the psychotic grin on his face.

"You're...not Ichigo?" Hitsugaya asked in confusion.

"Yes I am," Ichigo's body retorted with a pout. "Okay, okay. He's in here too, though." The poltergeist let Ichigo bind back into his own body, encouraging him to talk the kid into hurrying the hell up.

Hitsugaya saw something shift within Ichigo, and he was back to his scowly self.

"I'm fine, kid. Now seriously, where is he? This is kind of important."

"You are not fine! What was that?"

"Poltergeist, Hitsugaya, now where the hell is he?!"

"Who are we asking for?" A deep, calm voice came from across the room. Byakuya sauntered into the entrance hall, looking no tenser than he sounded.

"Byakuya!" Ichigo exclaimed in relief, "we found him. But you have to hurry, Kurotsuchi's killing him! He's got Grimmjow, too!"

There was a flurry of movement as the massive, grizzled werewolf pounced over Ichigo and landed somewhat gracefully before Byakuya. He raised himself onto his hind legs, and there was a silence where everyone in the vicinity besides our heroes simultaneously pissed themselves.

"There's a fight to be had, Kuchiki. You in?" The werewolf's lips were curled into an ugly, happy grin.

Byakuya's expression was blank as normal.

"Zaraki Kenpachi," he stated flatly. "What a surprise."

"Kenny," little Yachiru piped up from her seat on the big were's shoulder, "why doesn't his face move? I'm gonna call him slate-face."

Kenpachi chuckled softly. "He's always been like that."

There was a moment where nobody moved, and then there was shuffling from one person in the room.

Hitsugaya stepped forward. "I feel personally responsible for what has happened. If you will let me grab my sword and ice beads, I'll join you."

"Go," Ichigo shooed him. Hitsugaya pattered off towards the servants' quarters, brushing past Byakuya as if he didn't exist.

"Kid's sore about something," Kenpachi muttered, amused.

"He has something to be sore about," Ichigo informed him.

"Well, not my place to pry." He shrugged.

Ichigo decided it was better not to remind the massive, bloodthirsty, grizzled werewolf towering a few feet over him that prying was _exactly_ what he was doing.

Ulquiorra stayed silent, observing the very atmosphere with amazing perception. He could understand the relationships between each of them in turn, even if he couldn't comprehend why those relationships were there. Byakuya, however, was unreadable. The vampire lord had no emotions, it seemed; or perhaps those emotions were hidden even from himself. Ichigo, on the other hand, was an open book to him. He was a noble young man; he'd made a deal with the devil not for himself, but to save the two people closest to him. Kenpachi just wanted to fight, and Yachiru, watch him; Hitsugaya felt that he needed to redeem himself; and he himself had his own purposes to attend to.

"Are you coming, Byakuya?" Ichigo pressed. He suspected Shiro had influenced that question.

The vampire lord made no move, for or against. Ichigo feared the worst.

The little ice samurai reappeared, now with a deadly katana strapped over one shoulder and a long string of irregular blue crystals over the other. He had put on a necklace: a thin chain with a single, larger crystal in the center.

"I'm ready now," he announced. "If everyone else is ready, we should be on our way."

Ulquiorra stepped back out of the manor with no further ado, followed quickly by Kenpachi (Yachiru in tow) and then Hitsugaya.

Ichigo tried one last time. "Will you save them?"

Byakuya stared at the doorway as if Ichigo wasn't occupying it, and then turned his back on the rescue party. Ichigo's temper flared.

"You don't deserve him," he growled at the vampire, and slammed his precious door in his unchanging face.

* * *

"Stupid Kenny! I said to turn right at the big knotty tree! Now we're lost, cuz Kenny is stupid," Yachiru whined.

"I thought you said turn left," Kenpachi sighed. "Where now?"

"Due north," Ulquiorra stated, sounding almost cranky.

"I remember going further that way," Ichigo pointed, also indicating a northerly direction.

"Well, I say we go... THAT WAY!!!" Yachiru crowed triumphantly, spurring Kenpachi into a full-out sprint.

...Unfortunately, it was to the west.

"Wheeee!" she cried, as Ichigo and Ulquiorra scrambled to catch up.

* * *

Snap. Kenpachi grinned psychotically, bits of raw muscle and shattered radius and ulna dripping from his fangs. He became a whirling twister of fur and claws and rage once again. Blood vessels and tendons littered the floor after only seconds of this rampage. Maybe it was five monsters, but maybe it was fifty; only the growing pile of gore was counting.

Yet the monsters kept coming, oozing, limping, growling, and lunging. Ichigo and Shirosaki just tried to stay out of the way, because Kenpachi's teeth and brute force didn't discriminate between friend and foe or even living and inanimate. Tables shattered like fine china, walls crumbled like children's sandcastles, and solid marble statues exploded like cherry bombs as

Kenpachi raged on. He had started bleeding, from the forearms, from his muzzle. He didn't notice, or maybe he couldn't feel it anymore. Yachiru was giggling, or yapping, excited to see her Kenny in his element.

Ichigo felt sick.

Hitsugaya was trying to steer the near-mindless killing machine further into the house. "It's through that doorway!" Ichigo would shout, and Hitsugaya would smash an ice bead to freeze the monsters furthest from the door. He and Ichigo would then slice and shatter the sitting ducks like sushi. Kenpachi would then move in the direction Ichigo had indicated, because that's where the meat-bag creations were.

Ulquiorra efficiently dispatched anything that somehow survived the initial slaughter, and stated his observations about the house. He mentioned a draft from a central air system, and then reported there were no sounds coming from the source.

The basement had gone silent.

The group tried to hurry, sometimes sending Ichigo or Ulquiorra to scout ahead, slowly finding their way further down into the depths of this hellish mansion.

After a multitude of rooms and hallways, and enemies too numerous to count, Kenpachi began to tire, his ears drooping more than usual, and then his furious wheeling slowed to a crawl. He huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf he was, sneezing out blood that wasn't all his. He was ragged and matted, even more than before. But the group seemed to have reached a turning point, as there were no monsters to be seen.

"Which way now?" Hitsugaya panted. Ichigo caught his breath and replied, "There were stairs, I, uh, don't know which ones."

"Oh, lost are we?" someone gloated from behind them. Ichigo wheeled around.

Szayel stood proudly before them, a new contraption strapped to his arm. It clanked menacingly, each wriggle of his fingers sending awful screeches across the metal bars that made it up.

"So, I thought we would play a little game. Your group will choose one person to fight to the death. If you win, you can get through this door," he motioned to one behind him and to the left, "which leads to your friend. If you lose, however, everyone in the group becomes an experiment for my master. I think this is fair, don't you?"

"What the hell?! You can't toy with us! Just shut up and fight, then!" Ichigo shouted, clearly sick of this hellish mansion and its tyrannical lord.

"Not so fast," Szayel knowingly laughed. "You won't be fighting me. I'm much too smart to fall for that. We've brought a special challenger for you to face."

Szayel wiggled his fingers like a particularly skilled puppeteer, and a feline snarl pealed off of the mouldy walls.

"Come, Grimmjow! Fight your challenger!" he laughed again, his voice high and mad.

The only thing Ichigo saw was Grimmjow's eyes. They were black, full of hate, and devoid of recognition.

* * *

A/N: THE LOVE, YOU GUYS. OMG I HAD NO IDEA I HAD SUCH A FOLLOWING. ILU ALL *cries tears of joy...and joyness*

I feel like I should apologize profusely for my nosediving quality. I'M SO SORRY YOU GUYS I feel like this wasn't as well written as it could have been. *sob sob* If I ever rewrite this story (which I might) this chapter will have so much more WTF in it (in the good way).

FROM LAST CHAPTER:  
...Nobody guessed why Ulquiorra was a tomato fairy?? (lol, yeah, he wasn't actually a fairy, but, yeah. I am so eloquent today.) BUONO TOMATO, BUONO TOMATO, BUONO, BUONO, OOH, TOMATO... Google "ulquiorra tomato song". Don't ask why, just do it. (Besides, the song is hella catchy.)  
After watching Hetalia (actually, replace "watching" with "stalking") I keep thinking Shiro is Prussia. So yeah, that pretty much explains all his OOC-ness.

BUT I'M SO, SO, SOOOO SORRY ABOUT TEMPORARILY DYING LIKE THAT. I might be better now, who knows? My teachers like to assign extra homework when they think us students might have some free time. Like over Spring Break. Yup.  
On a slightly happier note, NOTICE THAT THIS IS PART A OF CHAPTER 6. That means you get another part, and thus, MOAR STORY. Sorry I had to split it, but the chapter was getting out of control in length. I'll try to get the second part up in the next two weeks or so, okay? THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME, GUYS. I ABSOLUTELY WILL FINISH THIS STORY. MARK MY WORDS.


	7. Chapter 7: Wrath, Part B

Chapter 6: Wrath, Part B

A/N: Remember, this was originally part of the last chapter. That was a very long chapter. _

With no further ado, the end of the penultimate chapter of SabreWolf.

* * *

Byakuya couldn't go with the group for this fight. This was something he needed to do alone.

He waited for them to leave his sight, and then he began preparing furiously.

His sword was taken from the base of the bronze sakura tree. His sheath was knotted at the sash on his waist. His shoulder bag was filled by the young, skittish healer with simple salves and bandages. His horse was saddled by Ganju, and then Byakuya bypassed the group with a wide left.

After a long ride at a brisk trot, the mansion's distinct aura began closing in on him, making the horse wary. He tethered his mare two hundred yards from the mansion, and began making his way inside. The rest of them wouldn't arrive for at least another hour, assuming they would get lost. And knowing Kenpachi, they probably would.

* * *

Ichigo slid into a fighting stance. If this was how things were going to go down, then so be it.

Szayel jerked his hands wildly, and Grimmjow leaped at Ichigo. Claws flashed past Ichigo's face, and his right eye was only spared because of a very well-timed flinch.

That's when Ichigo realized that Grimmjow would actually kill him, given the chance.

"Snap out of it!" he hollered at the teal panther, whose fangs grazed his knee. He ducked, fell to the ground, and barely avoided a massive clawed paw to his torso. He kicked, and managed to catch a glancing blow to Grimmjow's ribcage.

"Go, go, get Renji!" Ichigo pleaded with Ulquiorra, Hitsugaya, and Kenpachi. He knew he couldn't hurt Grimmjow. His allies, particularly Kenpachi and Ulquiorra, could kill the were-panther. The three of them made to help him, but couldn't hit Grimmjow or Szayel without hitting Ichigo.

Grimmjow wheeled around, snarling at the hit. Ichigo pushed himself to his feet, and that's when Shiro finally decided to help.

The twins bent backwards at the waist in a limbo move, ducking under Grimmjow's outstretched paws and bared fangs. They tapped a playful punch against his furry belly as he passed overhead.

Then they began a whirling, furious dance. Shiro knew how to twist, contort, bend. They stayed just out of Grimmjow's reach, tapping him with teasing punches and kicks. They pushed themselves away by vaulting gymnastically over Grimmjow's head, sliding between powerful legs, pulling off flips Ichigo never knew his body was capable of.

Szayel didn't lose his cool. He suavely reached down, and twisted a knob on his mechanical glove.

"Now that we're done playing, I can start to show his true powers," Szayel grinned.

Grimmjow growled in pain, and lashed out. With lightning speed, four parallel lacerations appeared on Ichigo's back. Grimmjow's claws had scraped from his shoulder blade to his hip, cutting him to the bone.

And then, just as sudden as the slash, Grimmjow stopped. He still snarled, but something had changed in his eyes. He shuddered, lifting a paw to attack, and then fought himself to put it back down.

He was fighting the poltergeist. And he was winning.

Grimmjow managed to switch back to human form, still on all fours, clutching his head and howling in pain. He shuddered, and wrenched his head up to face Ichigo.

"Knock me out," he rasped. "You'll have to knock me out." With that, he bowed, presenting Ichigo with a clear shot to the back of his head.

Ichigo hesitated. He wasn't sure if he could do that. Too light of a tap would just hurt the man he loved, while hitting him too hard would kill him. Shiro only knew how to kill, and Ichigo only knew how to love this man. They would disagree, and that only increased the chances of a mistake.

"I can do this," he told Shiro, and himself.

Normally, the poltergeist would have ignored him and done it himself, but this was different. Ichigo was pushing him aside, and Shiro decided it would be too much work to interfere.

Grimmjow shook his head, beginning to lose control again. Szayel was tweaking the knob one way, then another. He knew that nobody could fight off the effects for long.

Ichigo took a deep breath. No pressure, he reminded himself, except that one of them might die if he messed up. But no pressure.

He lifted his foot, and curbstomped Grimmjow just over the base of the skull and the top of the spine. His forehead cracked against the cement floor, and he slumped over.

Ichigo scrambled to check his pulse.

Unconscious. Still alive. He'd have a headache like a hungover teen when he woke up, but he was alive.

Grimmjow sprawled out on the floor, unexpectedly moving again. He didn't seem to have proper control over his limbs.

Szayel laughed at Ichigo's distressed face.

"Excellent. Not that you have knocked out the subject, the possessor will have total control. You have sealed your own fate, fool."

Ichigo swore as Grimmjow found his way to his feet again, eyes completely soulless now.

* * *

A tiny green-haired girl sneaked past Kurotsuchi's back, terrified of moving but even more terrified of not moving. The big werewolf on the table was looking bad, even after she'd found all the correct vials and treated him exactly the way she remembered how. She poked his nose and he didn't move. She poked his cheek and he didn't move. Then she poked the side of his neck, and he still didn't move. Something was wrong.

"Nel, get away from the subject," Kurotsuchi hissed impatiently, and Nel skittered off.

As soon as she'd scampered out of sight, the injections and whippings began anew.

* * *

Ichigo's shirt was in bloody ribbons, and his pants weren't far from that. Even with Shiro's constant attention, Ichigo couldn't dodge Grimmjow's attacks anymore. He had gotten faster and more acrobatic as Szayel cranked up the knob on his glove, and now, he was untouchable. Ulquiorra had made a move to bat the werecat away, and had gotten a claw to the chest for his efforts. Hitsugaya's ice beads did nothing, and Kenpachi had sunk into a tired stupor after his earlier rage. Ichigo was constantly mere seconds from death, if Szayel wanted to kill him. But no, he seemed perfectly happy to stall for time and test out every last facet of his new toy.

Grimmjow raised a paw the size of a dinner plate, ready to crash it down on Ichigo's head, when suddenly, everything froze.

Byakuya held Szayel around the throat, fangs hovering over the skin. Szayel's eyebrows were raised in shock; how had the vampire gotten the upper hand so quickly? He couldn't struggle with the fangs that close to his neck, logically, so he breathed slowly and kept his scientific cool.

"Demon, if you so much as move too quickly, I'll bite you," Byakuya hissed in barely-controlled rage. "As disgusting as you would taste, I promise you would not survive the ordeal."

Szayel was almost insulted. Almost.

"Now stop hiding behind your trickery. Take off the glove."

Szayel thought about it. Was it worth dying for this technology? No. Was it worth dying for Kurotsuchi?

That was a stupid question, he realized. There is nothing worth dying for, especially not his so-called master. He wouldn't die.

The device clattered to the floor, and Szayel waited for his freedom.

Byakuya had other plans for him.

"Take us downstairs. Take me to Renji."

Ichigo cried out as Grimmjow toppled over, boneless without the controller to command his every movement. His eyes were still wide and soulless, however, because the poltergeist was unwilling to leave even an immobile host.

"Here," Byakuya said, and handed his pack to Hitsugaya. "Bandage him up. There is someone who needs me right now."

"Yes sir," Hitsugaya nodded respectfully, and drew rolls of gauze from the pack. The rest of the group didn't even have time to respond to Byakuya's sudden appearance before he was gone, still hauling Szayel around by the back of the neck.

Byakuya drew his sword, and dove fearlessly into the belly of the beast.

* * *

Ichigo rested his head on Grimmjow's heaving side, and stroked the soft fur he knew so well.

_How do we get that thing out of him?_he wondered to himself and Shiro, and of course the other poltergeist knew the solution.

_Simple. One body cannot contain more than one soul and one poltergeist, unless they achieve perfect unity. So if I can get into his body, I'll kick the other poltergeist out. It's not that difficult, really. And besides, I'm easier to bargain with than that mindless possessor. He's just glad to have a body. He'll do anything to keep it, even listen to that scary bubble-gum headed thing and his controller. Which gave me a headache, by the way._

_Poor baby,_Ichigo retaliated.

_Hey, do you want my help or not?_

_Okay, fine, what do I do?_

_Well_, Shiro started explaining in a tone of voice one would use when speaking to a small child,_I have to get out of your body and climb into his. So basically, don't do anything at all. Just sit there. You're good at that. Make sure you're making contact with the huge cat-thing. That's all you have to do._

_Fine,_Ichigo growled, or at least tried to sound as grumpy as he could via thoughts. _What are you going to do?_

_Try not to kill him. Because that would hurt me a lot._

Then Shiro's consciousness left him. The sensation was not unlike peeling off a long strip of dead skin, except all over his body.

There was a long pause where nothing happened. Ichigo jumped when Grimmjow's ear twitched, as cat ears often do, but that was a false alarm.

Grimmjow bucked, nearly knocking Ichigo away from him, but he managed to keep contact by a fingertip. He grabbed a handful of fur and skin, pulled himself closer, and tried to hold Grimmjow down. He was twitching every which way, violently arching his back and throwing around his heavy limbs, having a severe seizure.

It scared Ichigo to death to see Grimmjow like this. He pinned the panther as well as he could, and tried to soothe him by talking softly.

"Grimmjow it's me, it's Ichigo. Calm down, calm down, we're going to help you. Shiro is going to help you, don't fight him." He continue in this vein for some time, until Grimmjow's body stilled again. He shifted to human form and began coughing. They were meaty coughs, thick with pain, so Ichigo helped him sit up.

It only took two solid pats on Grimmjow's back to dislodge the pink translucent blob from his body. It floated for a moment like a massive discolored firefly, and then shattered. Grimmjow fell back into unconsciousness, and Shiro pressed his presence back into Ichigo's body.

_See, that wasn't too hard. I don't understand why these so-called scientists haven't figured out to use poltergeists with ethereal forms, poltergeists like me._

_You'll have to ask them yourself_, Ichigo said halfheartedly. Then all of his attention was turned to Grimmjow, who was draped over his lap.

_Will he be okay?_ he worried to himself, and again, Shiro answered.  
_Yeah, he'll be fine. He sounded really horny though, so watch out when he wakes up._

_Typical_, Ichigo groaned.

* * *

Szayel slid the key into the pigeon-crap grey door's keyhole, and unlocked it with a soft click. Byakuya motioned him away from the door, and the demon happily complied. The door opened slowly, and the first thing Byakuya saw was not Kurotsuchi or needles or rusty medical equipment or the rows of yet-untested souls, even though all of these things were in plain sight.

Byakuya saw Renji's face. He had cried until he had no tears left, the dampness of his cheeks evidence to this. He had coughed out blood until he had coughed up lung tissue, red still trickling off of the table. And he had bitten his lip almost clean through, the blood from this wound mingling with the blood from his shredded back and his shredded lungs.

The most terrifying part of his face was his eyes, which were still open, but glazed over. Byakuya couldn't tell if Renji was dead or alive in that moment. And he saw red because of it.

The cool, calm vampire lord threw away all of his calm and his cool, ready to do whatever it took to bring Renji back with him.

Kurotsuchi saw only a blade flying toward his head, and slapped it from the air just in time.

"Byakuya, I thought he was only a slave," Kurotsuchi mocked him. "You were so eager to sell him to me at first. What changed?"

Byakuya lunged at the maniac, intent on doing as much bodily harm to Kurotsuchi as possible. However, the scientist was very slippery, and stayed just out of Byakuya's grasp.

"Did the untouchable vampire grow a heart? For a mutt? Look how far you've fallen, Byakuya," he sing-songed and danced away from the enraged lord.

Byakuya caught sight of Renji's torn back, heaving in pained gasps.

Renji was still breathing. There was still a chance. Kurotsuchi became unimportant to him in that instant, and he lifted his sword from where it had clattered to the ground. The bindings on Renji's arms and legs were cut easily enough.

"Are you trying to save him? As soon as he was injected with the first soul, he wasn't meant to survive. You can't save him, he's bled out too much. He'll die in your care."

"Better he dies in my care than yours," Byakuya hissed, and hoisted Renji over his shoulder to make his escape.

* * *

Ukitake's breathing was shallow, and his skin was pink with fever. Shunsui held the man loosely, cradling him in his lap.

He'd slipped into unconsciousness less than an hour ago, and by the looks of things, he was never going to wake up.

* * *

Kenpachi insisted he was fine and hunkered down in Byakuya's dining hall to eat twice his weight in food. Little Nel had followed him back, and she and Yachiru were playing with his twitching tail. Ichigo refused to leave Grimmjow's side until the werecat had been looked over, given some painkillers and a healthy dose of magic, and placed in bed. Then he stopped fretting long enough to have his back looked at. It was torn to the bone in places, and subcutaneous tissue gleamed white under the blood. Hitsugaya instructed him to lay on his stomach, and administered a shot.

Ichigo's eyelids drooped, and Hanataro, the meek healer from down the hall, began stitching him up. Within minutes, neat rows of black tracks trailed across his back. They were dressed with clean cotton strips, and then Ichigo was left to rest.

Byakuya refused to let go of Renji, even when Hanataro and Hitsugaya began treating him. He sat on Byakuya's lap, slumped over, his chin on Byakuya's shoulder. Byakuya soothingly stroked Renji's fiery hair, timing the petting with Renji's labored breathing. There was blood everywhere: soaking Renji's torn pants; dripping off of Byakuya's clothes; seeping into the floor. His old, scabbed-over wounds had torn open on the trip home, and he was back to bleeding to death. His skin was already pale, like a china doll, and he was just as fragile.

Every so often, a deep breath would become a hacking cough, and blood would dribble down his chin.

Hanataro toiled away for two hours, trying to put Renji's back together again. He sewed the skin back together, layer by layer, healing as much with his magic as he could.

He had run out of surgical thread by the time Grimmjow awoke. The werecat limped up to Byakuya's bedroom to survey the damage. Renji's breathing was becoming weaker all the time. Byakuya refused to meet anyone's eyes. Grimmjow looked at his feet. Hanataro left the room to try to find more surgical thread, and Grimmjow followed him out.

"How bad is it?" Grimmjow asked when they'd entered the stairwell.

"I don't know..." Hanataro said, barely whispering.

Grimmjow snarled. "Tell me, is he going to die? I can take it!"

Hanataro looked scared, holding up his bloody hands in defeat. "H-he-he's starting to get cold," he squeaked, "I don't think...I don't think he's going to..." he trailed off.

"He's not going to make it?" Grimmjow supplied, clenching his teeth in barely controlled rage.

Hanataro shook his head.

There was a loud bang when Grimmjow punched the wall.

* * *

A/N: Don't kill meeee D':

Now that most of the cast is torn to shreds or dying, this would be a good time to review and make me write faster. :P


	8. Chapter 8: Lust

Chapter 7: Lust

A/N: Here is what you guys have been waiting for. Patiently. Incredibly patiently.

* * *

Byakuya left later that day. It was completely unannounced - he disappeared after a silent dinner, and Ichigo was the first to notice he was no longer pacing outside his bedroom door. The only person who saw him that night was Ganju, whom Byakuya had wordlessly demanded a saddled horse from.

Byakuya nudged the stallion into a gallop. He wasn't sure where he was running to at first, but as he drew closer to his destination, he recognized that he needed to be there.

He was ashamed the very minute he arrived.

The brass knocker was icy against his hand, yet he still knocked. Someone stirred inside, and after a long, chill wait on the front stoop, the door opened.

Byakuya was greeted with the red, tear-stained face of Shunsui, his hat missing, his robes rumpled and dirty. He was barely standing, his knees shaking and his shoulders hunched dangerously.

When Shunsui looked up to see the man who'd given Ukitake a death sentence, he froze. His eyes widened, and he tensed.

Byakuya also froze. How had he forgotten? Shunsui had every right to be angry with him. He'd been rather rude the last time he'd been over here, even going so far as insulting Shunsui's human. Rather out of line, he'd admit. Byakuya braced for the inevitable fist to the face.

Rather than lash out with a fist, Shunsui launched himself at Byakuya. The aristocrat was pulled into a very undignified - and very soggy - embrace.

"Kuchiki, thank you, th-thank you," he sobbed into Byakuya's shoulder. "He doesn't have to be in pain anymore." He heaved in a dry breath.

He? The human? Byakuya didn't know what to make of this. Shunsui smelled heavily of sake, so it was quite possible he was confused with intoxication.

Without warning, Shunsui released Byakuya as if he'd forgotten he was there, and tottered back into the house without closing the door or inviting him in. Byakuya slid inside after him, and shut the door against the wind. Perhaps he'd gone mad?

He was curled up on his couch, holding that same man from before against his broad chest. And sitting next to him, was-

"Nel made it here a long time ago! You're even slower than Nel because the horses like Nel!" The tiny green-haired girl grinned widely. "Mr. Shunsui said it was okay if Nel sat in Mr. Ukitake's lap, as long as I was quiet, but Mr. Ukitake looked almost as bad as the red-haired man so Nel healed him!"

"Thank you for sending her, Kuchiki."

Byakuya stood there, stunned. The human anomalously smelled of death, as he was quite alive now. With the way Shunsui was holding him as if he'd never let him go, you'd almost think he had died.

And then it clicked. The human. Death. The tea. Healing.

His inability to see past himself had almost killed this man. This...this loving man. Another man.

Byakuya dropped to his knees.

He was so stupid.

So, so stupid.

* * *

When Ichigo woke the next morning, he slapped himself for falling asleep at all. He had to remain vigilant, for Renji's sake. But Grimmjow hadn't kicked him awake, so it was possible that Renji had stabilized.

Ichigo jumped - Byakuya was sitting at the foot of the bed now, and had been since an unknown time that morning. His head was hung in defeat, but his eyes were still on Renji's face.

Ichigo recognized that expression.

Byakuya would never give up.

* * *

I woke slowly, the world leaking into my head in fuzzy, garbled tones. I was laying down on my back. That was the first thing my mind managed to translate from the grays and static. I wiggled the fingers on my left hand, then my right. I sighed, and the air made a whooshing noise through my windpipe. The world was sorting itself out a little more rapidly now. I was lying on something softer than heaven, cool and slick like silk. I struggled, finally managing to open my eyes. The bronze limbs of a sakura tree sculpture hung above my head, laden with petite paper lanterns glowing with soft flames.

I was in Byakuya's bed.

In fact, I was in Byakuya's bed, wearing Byakuya's black hakamas and blue kimono. It scared me when I realized that he could have been the one to undress me without my knowing.

I looked to my right, where the crimson sunset beamed through the double windows. The forest was still and dark, and the sky was beautifully cloudless. I turned to my left, and jolted to a sitting position.

Grimmjow was sitting beside me, his chin resting on his fist and his elbow resting on Byakuya's bedside table. He looked amused, a sly grin upturning his face as he watched my every move.

"I wanted to see how long it would take you to notice me," he drawled, throwing his arm on the table in order to lean closer to me. "Now, roll on your stomach. I'm supposed to change your dressings."

"Grimmjow!" I greeted him, the adrenaline rush suddenly giving way to pain from my stiff joints and healing wounds. "A little help?" I grit out, failing to move as planned.

He chuckled, using both arms to steadily turn me without aggravating my sores. "It's good to have you back," he muttered.

He helped me peel the kimono from my upper body, making me wonder what dressings he was going to change. I knew the whip marks would be deep, but my back throbbed only slightly. Grimmjow brushed the dried cloth away from my back and balled it up to be discarded. They were stained with splotches of rusty brown scabs, but no red of freely flowing blood.

"There should be more blood," I commented on the cloth, confused.

"There was a lot more blood, on the first day," Grimmjow informed me.

First day? What? This wasn't the first day I'd been here?

"What do you mean, the first day?"

"You've been unconscious for three days, Renji. The first day was...for lack of a better term...utterly terrifying." Grimmjow moved slowly, kneeling on the bed beside me to better reach my whole back. He poured a few drops of smelly oil on my back, and froze. "You were...so close to dead, Renji. We all thought we were going to lose you. You had lost so much blood..."

I felt, rather than saw, him shaking his head. He put the bottle down, more somber than I had ever seen before.

"But, you're going to be okay now. Byakuya, Ichigo, and I took turns watching over you, changing your bandages, even getting you to drink Byakuya's tea. In fact, that Hanataro guy from the healers' wing was called up here to heal anything he could, and inject medication into you. Byakuya did everything in his power to save you."

I was stunned into silence as Grimmjow started massaging the oil into my back.

"Ichigo is starting to rub off on me, I'm going soft," he laughed, breaking the tension.

"Thanks, Grimmjow. I guess, I'm, uh, glad I have friends like you and Ichigo." I blushed scarlet with embarrassment.

"Not a problem, kid." He pressed new cloth strips across my wounds, the oil sticking them to my skin. "You put up with enough crap from me. It's worth it, right?" He grinned. "Just don't tell Ichigo about this conversation."

"It never happened," I agreed, mock-serious.

Hitsugaya poked his head in, and tried his hardest not to beam wildly at everyone.

"He's awake!" he shouted into the hallway, and was immediately knocked over by Ichigo.

"Renji!" Ichigo fluffed my hair, too overcome with emotions to say anything else.

"I am also...overjoyed that you are well," Hitsugaya said stiffly and offered his hand.

I shook it with a laugh that quickly turned into a hacking cough.

Then, Byakuya walked in. Everyone went silent as he crossed the room to his bedside, and when he silently shooed them out, they obeyed without hesitation. The look in his eyes told me that he had something important to say, and yet I couldn't meet his eyes.

He hesitated, and I berated myself for falling for him. Yes, he was attractive, I told myself. But he doesn't love you, and he certainly isn't good for you. He tried diligently to get rid of you, even tried to trade you to a sex-starved demon and sell you to a madman parading about as a scientist. He treated you with no respect, he even treated the sanctity of human life with no respect. Even before all this happened, he chained you in a little cage with two other men with the purpose of breaking you.

I told myself again, you need to get over him. You need to move on.

But he came to rescue you when you needed it most, whispered a tiny part of me.

"You're awake," he said slowly.

"Yes," I bit out. Pointedly, I stared at a lantern hanging above my head.

"How are you feeling?"

I tried to shrug boredly, but pulled something in my back. Instead, I answered him with a noise like "Mmrr." If he was going to have a conversation with me, he was going to work for it.

"I didn't know," he said quietly.

At first I thought I was hearing things, so I cocked an eyebrow and looked at him for the first time. His eyes were closed, his head bowed as a child bows to an elder.

"I didn't know anything." This time his voice was louder, more unsure. "I don't know anything."

"What?" was all I could respond with.

Byakuya took a deep breath, steadied himself, and spoke. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to feel. I still don't know." He sighed. And then he began to speak once more.

I will never forget his next words for as long as I live.

* * *

Ulquiorra flicked his sword, arcing thick ribbons of blood across the floor. His fingers were stained red-brown.

His mouth was twisted downwards in a scowl.

How had Mayuri managed to slither away?

* * *

Shiro had drifted a lot for the past few days, weaving through the walls as invisibly as a thought. He'd seen too much, felt too much.

He'd loved it.

But judging by his brother's expression, he hadn't.

Ichigo had been drinking a lot of water and tea, trying to stay hydrated after he'd lost so much blood. His back was sore, and he had a head cold from sleeping on his face.

At least Renji was alive, he kept telling himself.

And he and Grimmjow were still alive.

The werecat put his chin on Ichigo's shoulder and wrapped his arms around Ichigo's chest. He pecked Ichigo on the cheek, and then cracked a toothy grin into the redhead's neck.

"Of course I forgive you," Ichigo whispered.

* * *

Byakuya clenched his fists, trying to keep his face impassive as he finally looked into Renji's eyes.

"I didn't understand love."

Take my heart, he thought as hard as he could, trying to convince Renji. It's been yours even before I knew my heart could belong to someone else.

He hoped beyond all hope that Renji could forgive him. He'd been so foolish, so blind.

Renji dug his nails into the silk sheets.

"I don't owe you anything."

Byakuya winced. "I know."

"I don't have to forgive you."

"...I know." Byakuya bowed his head again.

"But for some reason, I can't get your stupid face out of my head." Renji shifted uncomfortably. "I can never get you out of my head."

Before Byakuya could respond, something tiny and green rocketed into the room and latched onto Renji's arm.

"Yay! Nel is so happy wolfy is okay! Nel is sorry for poking you. Nel only wanted wolfy to wake up!"

"Uh, hi," Renji responded with some uncertainty.

"Apologies for the interruption, Kuchiki. The little girl is such a ball of energy, I couldn't catch her! Glad to see our old friend is feeling better too." Shunsui had poked his head into the room at an odd angle, and as the door swung open, it was apparent why. He was holding Ukitake bridal-style, trying not to swing any of his lover's extremeties into the walls. Ukitake looked well-rested, a gentle smile on his pale face.

Renji perked up at their presence, but was still confused.

"What's going on here? Who is she? Is he going to be okay?" he asked Byakuya.

"Nel made the sick man all better! Just like how Nel made wolfy better when the scary man hurt him," Nel assured him in her baby voice.

"Come on, Nel, we should let them talk," Ukitake urged. Nel hugged Renji's arm one last time and then toddled her way back out the door. Ukitake closed it behind her with Shunsui's help, and the three of them made their way back downstairs.

"So, you know about the tea?" Renji asked cautiously.

Byakuya nodded solemnly.

Without a word, the two of them looked at each other, and each knew the other one understood what had happened. Byakuya felt foolish, but Renji felt proud.

"You forgave him?"

Byakuya nodded again. "I didn't see what was right in front of me."

Renji smiled, slowly, cautiously, as if he was afraid it would break if it grew too quickly. He rocked onto his knees, and carefully lifted himself up until he was kneeling on the bed at Byakuya's eye level.

Without warning, he pressed himself to Byakuya in a frantic kiss. It was sloppy and clumsy and Byakuya had to catch him before he toppled off of the bed, but it was the best kiss they could have had.

Byakuya pushed him back onto the soft sheets before he could hurt himself. Renji whined briefly at the loss of lips and warmth before Byakuya kissed him a second time.

Their noses bumped before Renji remembered to turn his head. Renji was hypersensitive to Byakuya's cool fangs and warm breath against his lips, before he was consumed entirely by the intensity of the kiss.

Byakuya had one hand supporting his weight, placed beside Renji's pillow. The other was tangled in Renji's fire-red hair. Renji had linked his hands behind Byakuya's back in a loose hug. They both left their eyes open in uncertainty, each studying the other person's face for signs of dislike.

Somehow, Byakuya's hips had ended up between Renji's thighs. He pressed one knee into the mattress, careful of putting any weight on Renji's wounds. His leg brushed against the werewolf, a little too softly to cause any physical reaction.

They broke apart after a moment, and Byakuya rested his forehead against Renji's chin.

"Now rest," Byakuya whispered into his neck. Renji squirmed at the sensation.

After that, he wasn't sure he could rest. But he would certainly try.

* * *

Kenpachi hadn't left werewolf form or Byakuya's kitchen after a week. Nobody was crazy enough to tell him to leave, however, so there was little chance he would abandon the hot meals anytime soon. Besides, he had struck up an unlikely friendship with the redhead and his ghost.

Every morning without fail, Shiro would peel Ichigo's body from his mattress and head out to the front lawn. Kenpachi would wait for Ichigo to fully wake up, and then the three of them - two of them? - would spar. It was a breathtaking fistfight, with Ichigo dodging attacks but unable to throw any, and Kenpachi throwing the punches but unable to land any. They would dance around each other until Ichigo dropped from fatigue or Kenpachi from hunger, and then retreated indoors to a huge breakfast and a discussion of the battle.

Shiro was surprised to find that he and Ichigo shared quite a few tastes in food, and would hang around until breakfast was over in order to savor the new dishes Grimmjow served.

Yachiru was still quite attached to her Kenny, but could be convinced to leave him alone by inviting Nel over to play with her. The two of them would play tag, or build with wooden blocks Ganju had whittled out of some old barn planks. They laughed and play-fought and dug in the dirt, the both of them finally allowed to have a childhood.

Nel was adopted by Shunsui and Ukitake, which meant Nanao did most of the caregiving. She didn't mind much, as Nel tended to stay out of trouble, or the one time she'd ended up hurting herself, healed the wound up before Nanao could fret. Shunsui and Ukitake were like fathers to her, and as Ukitake regained more strength each day, he made a point of taking Nel for walks and teaching her about the little birds and fish. She was taught many times that animals were to be handled gently and treated kindly, just like every person in the world.

As for me? Well, I had a rough time getting patched up at first. I just wanted to jump out of bed and tell Ichigo that I'd one it, I'd finally done it! But I had to stay still in bed and try not to strain myself.

Sometimes, Byakuya curled up next to me. He was stiff at first, as if he'd never cared about anyone before me, but I gradually coaxed him into relaxing and eventually he would even hold my hand as we layed side by side.

When I was well enough to stand, he half-carried me everywhere for the first few days. I finally convinced him that I needed to walk on my own to regain my strength, and then he hovered around me like a concerned mother hen.

He snuck kisses when nobody was watching. I wanted them to watch, I wanted to make sure he wasn't ashamed of kissing me. But I let him. I would always let him.

One day, Grimmjow whistled at us just as I'd gone in for a kiss. I shot him a scowl, but Byakuya unblinkingly kissed me back.

After that, I was sure he loved me. He had stopped ordering me around altogether, and seemed to lose the need to order his slaves around at all. For a month, the house was a mess of servants trying to complete their tasks, unsure if they should be doing their tasks, trying to keep the house running but finding time for themselves to do what they wanted. After that first month, everyone knew to split their chores and help each other so they could get to riding horses or making crafts. Byakuya didn't much mind as long as the house stayed orderly, and he only ever confronted someone to stop them from bickering amongst themselves.

And then, on a bright summer day with only a bit of breeze, it happened.

* * *

I was standing before Byakuya's massive bedroom window, watching the breeze blow through the leaves of a tree outside. It was relatively short and spherical, with branches perfect for climbing on.

I heard him open the door, but I didn't turn around. He brushed his fingers over my shoulder, and kissed my back once.

"Renji," he addressed me.

"Hm?" My eyes wandered from the tree.

"I've decided."

I met his eyes. His gorgeous dark eyes.

"Give me your collar."

"What?" I spun around in surprise.

He was holding out his hand expectantly. I complied, my fingers too clumsy to pry open the metal clip. He took pity on me and set his cool fingers on either side of my neck. Electricity shot up my spine as he trailed those marble-smooth fingertips across every inch of the one part of me he'd always dare not touch.

The buckle and the thick, dark leather strip came away easily in his clever hands. It was the first time I'd been without the collar on my neck since the day I'd been brought here.

He dropped it to the floor. It thumped, and was completely forgotten. Byakuya kissed my neck, sharp fangs grazing dangerously across my skin.

"You are no longer my slave," he hummed into my ear. "You don't have to stay here."

I thought about this for a moment. I was free. I could return to my pack, if I wanted. I could live alone, maybe come back to visit occasionally. I could run through the forest on a moonlit night, hunting a deer. I could do anything I wanted.

It was a good thing I already knew what I wanted.

Hot food, cold drinks, kind friends. And of course, the handsome vampire.

Kissing Byakuya was the first thing I did as a free man.

"Why would I leave? I have everything I've ever wanted right here." And without waiting for an answer, I dipped him backwards and kissed him again.

* * *

Now, there were still plenty of problems in the world to fix. The Demon Lord was on a rampage, as Mayuri had gone missing and his false souls were running low. Ulquiorra went missing too, not that we cared all that much, but so did Szayel. And handfuls more problems cropped up as the years went by.

But we weathered them, as families always do.


End file.
